Like a weary evening sailor
In search of light
Or the echo of his name
Beating in my heart 

I wish I had known when I was a child
My cartwheels were exquisite
So too was my smile…

And when she at long last
untethered herself
from his homespun inferno
the thoughts he fertilized with blight…

The heart
Insistent on living a life
The mind
Vehemently assails…

The wrinkles of youth
are but embryos of time…

Time and again
regaling the unworthy
with keys to my soul…

My Gates discovery earned no flowers
there was no award for my Lumière gift…

Blue skies bleeding
sorbet hues of lace…