Looking back,
There lay unremembered the wind,
The chill of a morn that entranced our feet into dance.
There had been a smile,
A brow had knitted concerned
And gloves had gifted the warmth of your hands onto mine.
Infuriating youth,
Your presence eclipsed all concerns.
A half-recollected reverie,
Our story translated on a screen black and white:
An undercurrent of fleeting moods,
Life’s certainties transmuted into chimerical objects,
And beliefs bathed away
In a covert upsurge of shadow and light,
Music and silence.
I kneeled at the feet of a not yet love,
Doomed to be haunted by its evanescence.
*
vic briggs 