– Originally written and posted on August 14, 2014 –

A dance
under the moonlight
and on top the hill,
where city lights
and stars
are witnessing:

Me–
grinning
in a red haltered dress
and blue stilletos;
playfully wiggling
my hips
to grace.

You–
gearing
in a black sleek suit
and white checkered tie,
seriously advancing
your steps
towards my way.

As the mono plays
while our song
fills the air:
your right hand
locked
on my waist
to stay;
While my lips,
laced
on the auricle
of your left,
blowing our sanity
away.

Sprigs in rust,
red,
gold,
and yellow
are filling the meadows.

Falling leaves
are hurrying
to kiss
the crying ground–
who cares what abounds!

In the cold murder
of their dream to be together;
Again, reality,
is the ruthless killer,
Again, on the loose again!

Poorest wistful bliss declared:
Dead on the Scene.
Poorer dream: Unresponsive.
Poor gusty winds in cuffs charged:
Accomplice.

On a Friday Morning,
Forsaken trees sing elegy,
while dead Heart gives its own eulogy:
“Odi et amo-”
Her closing verse.

The bereaved are tearless;
while the Grasshoppers mourn like mistresses;
oh, but the crickets are speechless.
Guess, they’ve never seen
that much tears and tearless before.