SHE REACHED FOR HIS HAND
WANTED TO OVERFLOAT
INTO A STREAM OF CONCIOUSNESS
A WOVEN PATTERN THROUGH THE THREDS
OF THE FABRIC OF THE CLOTHING THAT HE WORE
SHE WANTED TO BE CLOSER THAN BEFORE
THE IMAGINARY STRANGER SPOKE TO HER
COME...HE SAID...FOLLOW MY FOOTPRINTS
IN THE SANDS OF TIMES
FOLLOW THE UNHEARD RYTHM
WRITE YOUR RHYMES
AS SHE LOOKED HE SEEMED TO BE FADING
HIS EYES TOWARDS THE FLOOR
IN THOUGHT, CONTEMPLATING
HE WASNT INTERACTING, JUST WAITING
HE WASNT HERE
BUT THERE
THE IMAGINARY STRANGER STOOD BESIDE THE ROAD
HIS HAND HAD JOINED HERS
THEY WERE TOGETHER, ENTWINED
SHE SAID
WAS IT YOU I CAME TO FIND
written
january 2011, a dedication to my father