The Guest and Mr. G, by M. Allan Thompson Subscribe to rss feed for M. Allan Thompson

I DON’T REMEMBER WHEN MY GAZE FIRST FELL ON HER
MIGHT HAVE BEEN SPRING, NO SUMMER...NO FALL?
YET MY FIRST AND LAST VISION ARE NOT A BLUR
AS MY MIND EACH DAY RELIVES OUR FIRST CALL.

THE MONTHS STORM BY LIKE A LEAF CAUGHT IN A RAIN-FED STREAM
HER CASUAL, SOME SAY INDIFFERENT ELEGANCE, STILL MESMERIZES
ME!
I KNOW I SHALL NEVER CEASE TO DREAM
THOUGH SHE IS GONE, A VICTIM OF HER RESTLESS SPIRIT EVER SO
FREE.

MY DAILEY VIGIL DICTATES I STARE OUT IN HOPES SHE WILL
REAPPEAR
THOUGH I KNOW NOW, AND KNEW THEN, THE CERTAINTY THAT
SHE WOULD ONE DAY, WITHOUT THOUGHT, CAST ME ASIDE AND
DISAPPEAR;
OH, SO ALOOF, SO INCREDIBILTY INDIFFERENT TO MY LONGING
COMMITMENT-AS ONE EXPECTS FROM A STRAY CAT!
Posted: 2016-10-21 16:44:49 UTC

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