All This Time

His running summer colors

Play like auroras with her heart

Into the pied moon’s pipered night.

She lied yesterday morning to the red flowers

In one breath by saying,

She could never freely have his love again,

as her gentle friend,

Not over her ever-present aching decaying

dark moments.

But in the next, speaks only of him

And that he always loved her

like rain on the sea

like wind on their sky

when once come together.

She’s a prisoner of the smooth clue’s secret

So slow to will out

Those haunting salty blue pools of remembering,

To change, to stop them then, for him.

But will, some beautiful winter’s day

When he asks from a star, why she’s crying

For he sits so near, all this time.

For he has sat so near, all this time.