Journal for Researcher13819496
A transient piece of poetry (Oct 20, 2009)
To My Muse (Hoping It Doesn't Embarrass Her)
I dreamed of you again last night
Though this one was a better dream
For this time I was young again
Though sixty years still steered my youth.
I saw you standing by the bar, and smiled
A proper smile, Not one half practiced
That inexperience turns to a lechers leer
Or a baby's sprout fueled grimace.
A smile that started at the eyes
And passing gently through the heart
Unstoppably rose across my face
Mute witness to my happiness.
You saw me and returned my smile
The space between crackled like the air
When thunder's due or humid nights are fallen.
And as I moved you began to speak.
And the dustman dropped an empty bin
Right outside my bedroom window
And I was sixty four, and would never know
What memory had been stolen from me.
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