The whispering of curtains on a midnight breeze,
The ever so slight shiverings of the outside trees,
The passing of invisible lips upon my empty pillow,
The shadowed river caressed by the weeping willow.
Is it you just dropping in, or maybe only passing by?
Or just a fleeting feeling, gone in the blink of an eye?
On the bridge of my nuchal, your sweet warm breath,
Yet my love, & yet, you left me to run away with death.
The soft swirling mists come & then away they fly & go,
The soft form of you billowing in my candle´s soft glow,
The voice of love that I hear in my deep night´s dreams,
Is this merely my missing you within ethereal schemes?
The wispy cloudlets breaking free from God´s tight reins,
The footsteps in the hall as my ear eagerly awaits & strains,
Those warm arms that embrace me in the dead of the night,
Empty & yet those missing arms hold me so very near & tight.
A fragment of my imagination, your life I loved & yet now gone,
Leaving behind what?
A feeling, a sense, a breath, a distant song?
Just a nuance, fleeting as a feather that came & then away it flew,
But I know deep down that you’re really with me & it´s really you.
© Sue Lobo
Excerpt from the book “The Last Dance”
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