She Was There

Luminous, the moon looked down.
Misty white a flowing shawl.
Humidity brought to a peak.
Incessantly, the spirits speak
of all the love that could have been
if only they had tried to make amends.

Walking in the mists of time.
Symbolic images unwind.
Together we were more than one alone.
On sultry nights, the spirits moan,
regretting all the shame and blame
that could have been transcended.

The hour is late. The sun is high.
Musty scents adorn the sky.
We walk within the make-believe
where everything seems somehow
more than real. The night is still.
A rustling escapes the magic mood.

Luminous, the moon looked down.
Shadows playing all around.
They opened up their eyes
and she was there...

? Michaelette ?

6/25/2002
Copyright© 2002 Michaelette L. Romano
All Rights Reserved
Take me home . . .