W. D. Dyes

Poet

From the terrace you can see her dress
Swirling and sparkling like the city at night
You can hear the violins enclosing her
Within the sway of another's arms.

She sees you wandering endlessly toward her,
Knows that you, of all men, are hopeless to arrive.
When you reach to draw her near you heart
Time will lay her absence in your empty arms.

Envision her no more in scenes of your making.
The remorse you feel is not welcome anywhere.
Nothing more may remain for you except
An inarticulate devotion to moonlight.

You, who never learned to dance,
Can only listen in silence
For the pure clear song
Reaching to the stillness in the music.