Missed Connections in Austin
Cold Winds Of Warm Memories
Everything has olden except your presence
Moons ago I went through the surf on a lonely day
The waves were unreal even then
The hulk of the shipwreck you knew about –
remember that night of storms and kisses? –
was it a ship or a delicate woman’s hat
rolled by the wind in the spring rain?
– was there too.
Memories of you better still your tender presence was there too
Transparent and deep
Nothing had changed but everything had aged at the same rate
as my temples and my eyes my hands
Long long ago I moved through the pyramids of leaves
Golden slowly in the moss
Silent cold barnacles clung desperately to rocks in the sea
Don’t you just love that platitude?
Let me go, it’s so rare for me this ironic song
Children not taken and fading in the rear view
After that it’s happiness and dancing in the hawthorns!
The aperitifs had changed the names and colors
Of the rainbows framing the mirrors.
Long long ago you loved me like no other
Some places seem to avoid the inevitable progress of time: a quiet stretch of beach, a secluded lake, a path through the forest. Re-visiting these familiar places inevitably leads to reminiscing about the people and events that marked prior visits. I’d like to think this is how the people we loved and whom loved us stay close by even when they are far, far away.