.

Have You Seen Her?

If you never saw her,
you would recognize her
by the presence of goosebumps
prickling with tingling coldness;
so cold, that the breath you held without intent
exhaled a mist of gray into still air.

Her touch....

She had surrounded you before,
each time leaving you a potpourri of feelings--
shaken, exhilarated, cleansed, and invigorated.

Closing your eyes
you try to visualize her
only to envision on the backside
of your eyelids;
images only like clouds--
gray and yellow as well as white,
that kaleidoscopes in and out of focus.

But there were moments
when you were so close to seeing her,
it was like watching a jigsaw puzzle
falling into place,
piece by piece,
painting an image of a forgotten dream.

But there is one piece missing,
always, one piece missing.

Once you heard her voice
soft, tender as if a whisper
kissed more than your ear.
Now you listened with ears straining,
shutting out everyday sounds;

the clinkering engines of new model Ts,
dogs barking at the newspaper boy
who forgot to deliver your Sunday paper
because he was taken by a pretty girl who smiled.

Sara, sweet Sara

Those sounds were garbled
like an un-composed symphony.

A stranger passed-by,
so you thought, until you felt
coldness skimmed across your arms,
Goosebumps tied-up knots
against old bones, you trembled,
it was then you realized,

It was March chasing the Lamb.