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A Poem For Someone I've Yet To Meet
In The Place We Met For The First Time Tomorrow
Our footsteps echo,
deep and content,
as we walk hand-in-hand along the wet pavement,
in the place we met for the first time tomorrow.
Our reflections shimmer and dance
in curbside reflecting pools,
and the scent of you drifts on the air,
to rise and fall around my head
like ribbons.
And I wonder, absurdly,
if - when I sleep - my pillow will erase
the sensation of you beside me,
the sound of your voice,
or the things we said
in clumsy harmony...
When I was dizzy with the anticipation
of your every word
and saddened by the quickening night...
When the air etched us in the memory
of the evening
and you were the belle of street lamps,
the texture between the stars...
And I promise myself
never to forget even small moments with you,
in that place we met for the first time tomorrow.
- For My Muse
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