ONE DAY WITHOUT A WARNING

you once lost the love you knew
we both did ... maybe many times anew

you looked across the Steinway ...
trying to keep the long, dark mane at bay,
painting the gray pillars (me)
that would later be white for Antigone
and you sang, "In the early hours
of the morning, when the grass
is covered with dew ..."

and I knew
it wasn't for me that you yearned

but I hummmm'd along with you,
and learned
of real pain and longing
more than my own from saying an adieu --

"and the sun's begun its gray dawning ...."

and hurt for you

but I knew you were a real survivor
of the rocks and love's abyss --

you are .... the hurt helped make you a star.

My admiration for you, George.
I no longer have to ask, "wherever you are."

(c) 2003 Rennie Lorca