Remembering

 

Starlight glimmers in midnight skies
as willows by the river's edge
sing a mournful, lonesome dirge.
A full moon looms low; the air
is cool and sharp and clear.

White smoke from a flickering fire
dances lightly on a passing breeze,
and the willows nod their assent
to the truth of a happy accident,
chance meeting of transient,
fleeting identities.

I wake to city lights crowding in,
stench of decay, traffic's chaotic din.
I wake to look around this empty room,
the only resting place I found, a space
where I could almost begin to forget
a dream born on the day we met.