The First, The Last

The summer came - the first, the last;
I drifted in between, where magic fed
the fantasy of each and every dream
I once felt true. Now autumn calls
there on the wind; its coolness lightly
chilling everything.

The flowers burst in splendid glory;
the trees now turn their leaves to
crown in gold and reddened flurries.
I know the feel; I need it too - to leave
somehow within a burst of beauty
ever felt in memory. Yet you refuse
me even this - this one departure.

How harsh - that loneliness within your
voice each time you speak to me. How
bleak, the emptiness that seems to freeze
the words you need to say. How neat,
the same old phrases - the ones that used
to flow straight from your heart.
The sleet will soon replace the falling rain,
and yet the distance still remains.

I remember days before I took that turn
and fell in love with you. The skies still
shone in wondrous tones of blue; no
matter that I lived life on my own. Yet
now somehow, no matter how the sun
beats down, I cannot seem to find that
loving warmth within me now.

And still, I swear, I see your eyes -
intensely shining into me; promising
forever from the core. Falling, falling,
now into an abyss of your emptiness.
I call, and yet there is no one to answer.
And no matter what I do, it seems I can't
get over you.

The summer came and went - the first,
the last - and you were gone.  I drifted
in between, where magic fed the fantasy
of each and every dream I once felt true.
Now autumn calls there on the wind; its
coolness lightly chilling everything. And
soon enough, the snow will come
to bleed the heat from every living thing -
e'en me...

? Michaelette ?

8/24/2001
Copyright© 2001 Michaelette L. Romano
All Rights Reserved
Take me home...