I lost myself in a dream last night

In which a memory danced its way

Through hazy distortions of truths

Never rendered, words never spoken

And places never seen, though I

Knew well the players that awaited

Me there, as is often the way of such

Things in that twilight world.

She danced beneath an old willow tree,

Always a willow tree when that mystic

Eye turns her way, looks inward towards

Her place in the fabric of times now past but

Not forgotten, a complicated tapestry of

Shadowed yesterdays woven together in

An abstract pattern that stitched itself across

My heart with broken needles of regret.

Ghostlike she seemed beneath that lonely

Tree, spinning to and fro in a field of mist

But never moving beyond those hanging

Limbs, their burden the weight of years

Gone by as they swayed in retrospect to

A song that only I could hear, in a voice

That was hers alone but lost to me now

In the silent crescendo of time.

END

“Tapestry”