words she writ

words she writ
once in a while

poet she labeled
her near miss

of articulating
passions and griefs

on a gray day she reaches

to recall
she reaches

back into the abyss where
she parsed,
detached to feel
intense

too brief an interlude
never she got to know
never she divulged
never she smithed
words for you

to the hours lost
is the meeting
the parting

yet familiar
is the weight of you
her response
your coming
your going

newly sweet
is the lingering
is the knowing

pause

sweetly
in this moment
with every-one
in their as-is place
and out the window
every-thing
is still
in the grasp of fall

"wine and roses seem to whisper to me when you smile..." ~Sweet Jane, Cowboys Junkies