The Return

It is not difficult
to remember time’s blindness
--- as much as the night could see.
Their love was such that midnight's light
no longer seeped in between their palms, their eyes.
The fronds, ghostly in the canopy, shuddered
at their fruit, the bud of the bud
which would turn an erstwhile lover
into an accomplice.

Tonight, they sang
a sand-in-seashell song.
I am the mother, the child,
the midwife of the homecoming trail
--- in another poem we may return,
like footsteps to the dawning shore.

This marks my so-called return to fp after a rather long hiatus. In a semi-perverse move I've abandoned my old pen-name and account to test out the waters all over again. After all, reincarnation is free and easy in the virtual world :) Originally part of another poem which went belly-up (these things do happen...), I recently modified it to more or less fit my mood at this juncture. I like to think that this is a piece for those who knew me and also for who thought they knew me. It could also be a piece for all who have been prodigious-and-then-regretful....