Copyright © T. GhostWolf Davidson. All rights reserved.

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Break out of someone else's frames here

 Shadows


...for Irma




  Haunting winds blow through my mind,
      
  bringing shadows of things that once were;
      
  a peace of mind untold, now
      
    but dust blowing in the winds of today,
      
      the cold, keening, lonely winds of today...
             
      
  The swirling winds evoke memories
      
    I thought were but dreams--would have been dreams,
      
       but for her...
      
    Even now, I can see her soft summer radiance,
      
      sense her delicate spring fragrance, and
      
      hear her laughter soft as falling snow...
      
    Is it a dream? Did I once hold her, and tell her of
      
      my love? Did I once kiss her, feel her near me
      
        for one eternal moment?
      
            
  The cold, lonely winds answer me,
      
    for they too miss her faery form, her breathless
      
    abandon, and her happy laughter...
      
        and now I, and the wind, are haunted
      
        by our hollow memories, all we have left of--her...
    

  Thundering surf crashes on the dark and distant shore,
      
  swept by swirling winds, mantled by ebon night,

    companion of my soul...
      
      The hungry waves consume my wandering imprints,
        
      but the ache in my heart is not food for surf and wind;
        
         only for my haunted memory...


  Silent clouds drift overhead, lone stars peer down at me,
    
  and I welcome them, distant though they be...

    Cold mists brush my forehead, but do not solace me,

    for I still remember a breathless moment, a wondrous moment,
      
      and my heart cries out to the skies--but there is no answer...


  Once before I walked the beach at night, with the wind, the surf--
   
  and her... The cool waters swirled at our feet, and the mists
    
    refreshed us and soothed our sunburnt faces...


  Now, the stars, the cold steel stars peer down at me
    
    and wonder, as does my heart, why I am alone,
     
    so alone, with but the surf, and the cold cold wind...
     
       the cold, haunting wind...


  Golden leaves swirl in autumn breezes as I walk paths
    
    of long ago in corridors of delicate memory...

      Once again she walks with me, and is mine to hold,

      to cherish, to love in ruby sunsets that set world

      and sky aflame...

    
  We walk in gentle rains, under canopies of emerald leaves
   
  glistening with myriad diamonds of scintillating light,

     and dance, dance to the delicate music of the rain,

       the delicate, faery music of the falling rain...


  The moonlight glistening in her soft hair, shining

  in her eyes; the starlight nights of majestic splendor

    when we danced and loved beneath the sparkling sky;

      and the quiet hours spent strolling hand in hand

      along the moonlit beach, and the eternal moments

        we shared our love...


  And, like the morning mists,

    she was gone, gone from my arms, my life;

      and now I find her only in my memories--


  A delicate, beautiful dream--

     A delicate, beautiful, beautiful dream...
  
    
    ©  T. GhostWolf Davidson, December 12, 1972

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Last updated: Saturday, 03-Jan-2015 18:12:54 PST