Return to me, return to me
my cherished, cherished memory –
when sunset etched your pearly face
in everlasting, autumn grace
And dancing in the fall-time air,
immortalized in sweet despair
return to me, oh hopeless love,
return to me, my dearest love
And in the emptiness, and in the pause,
bereft I stood –
eternities in our final steps
and with that casual wave
dismissed me to the common world
and there I stood,
and here I rest,
remembering
and only memories
return.
Monday, April 18, 2011
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One Art, to recognize, must be,
Another Art to Praise.
- Emily Dickinson