You gleaming like water evaporated by cause,
I blew the chalk dust from my hands,
Late on his deed, it was done,
It became another clown prince dream,
For us, time was a myth.
Under the street lights at night,
The fine art of the distant moon mirrors my empty hands,
Hands that bled at the mention of your name,
The stars dazzle topaz memories of our youth,
I search the night sky longing for you.
To hear rainfall and jazz together,
Such fervent opinions of music,
An unanswered telephone rings in the distance,
Leaving behind traces of brilliance.
Originally posted on http://poetry.org.nz/editor/abeyance-2/