The Breeze in a Shadow
It’s when there is a quiet,
a silent breeze, filters the memory,
the leaves respond,
small animals raise shackles,
the oxygen is swift,
a desire to bite the thin air.
It’s when imagination is only
the sweet remedy to fear,
when might she know,
where, how, it is in the sudden
anxiety of loss, the breeze
begins a suggestion of a gale force.
It’s when he would rather,
step around the corner,
the reality of life is sudden,
a turn, a gust, a shattered dream
might indicate some passing storm,
where love is always near.
If only he might ride the crest of a wave,
sudden dips, at the highest would she wave.