Guitar With Wind Accompaniment
Shadows touch and release
on our moonstruck porch,
leaves moving under white water.
You sing off-key with feeling.
Folk songs on a classical guitar.
I rise, my hand on the rail,
as full-blown climbing roses,
a disarray of petals,
reflect pale sequences of moonlight.
A cold gust of wind
splinters the autumn air,
but you keep on singing.
The future spins
in the weather of pines
and flows through our fingers.
It is all here,
pieces of a puzzle.
In only two lifetimes
we'll complete it.
