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By Briana Kassia Date: 2008 Jun 03 Comment on this Work [[2008.06.03.21.36.18881]] |
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Misted rain, soft and springy, June. Already? Our chance has passed Was it ever really a chance Or just a date I selected at random When you pressed for the answer When? May! I said, May, flustered and A little mad that I had to know When, when? A month too far distant (in December) to consider It might never come to pass… May has fled And now… it’s June You are still there and I am still here And we stand staring Looking across This chasm of space Cut by time’s white water rapids Growing deeper, if no wider, As the weeks, and months, And then the years pass. We dream but refuse To plan for the essential eventuality We dream loudly, we dream frantically We reach across and feel the phantoms of each other Held tighter than lovers But if we do not step forward If we only ask When And do not say NOW! It might never come to pass. |