A Hitch of Heart

Ever fading beauty
still eternally reborn.
A hitch of heart.
A throbbing sob.
The song reborn again.

Relevant, the reverent reminders.
Sound held within a silence of rejoinders.
The quake becoming quite finessed.
Styles repeated in redress.
The sixties never really went away.

The flower children tried too hard.
They turned into the yuppies.
Not so very far from being hippies
living in the bottom of belled pants.
Their silent war against all wars
retreated to the corner bars.
The marijuana highs were still imbibed.

Drifting through eternal sands of time.
Remembering when feelings seemed
to rhyme in greater rhythms.
Filtered through the skies they held within.
Rock that rolled through Woodstock.
Changed - but still the same to them somehow.

Another tender memory arising.
Walking on the clouds of earthen heaven.
Hand in hand, adjoined to other souls.
But never quite appeasing those old gods.
The sacrifice, their lives of repetition.
Seeking an inviolable perfection.
Forgetting that existence means
much more than an unfeeling thing.

Their moments live
in ever fading beauty
still eternally reborn.
A hitch of heart.
A throbbing sob.
The song reborn again.
Within the many hearts
that once were torn to bits
without the loving true...

? Michaelette ?

11/10/2004
Copyright© 2004 Michaelette L. Romano
All Rights Reserved
ake me home . . .