An Old Song
All lovers live by longing, and endure:
Summon a vision and declare it pure.
Theodore Roethke, “Four For Sir John Davies”
I awakened with a memory,
Something from a dream,
And it was like an old song
That for no reason you know
Starts playing in your mind
And you can’t get it to stop
And the more you hear it
The more persistent it is.
You remember the music
But not all the words
So you fill in the blanks
With words of your own
And the song is part true
And part what you make it . . .
And so she was, and still is.
Poetry by countryfog
Read 653 times
Written on 2013-08-20 at 18:44
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