Reverie From An Absent Lover.

I speak to you
as morning's gold filament
fades in leaves
and strong brown limbs of trees
shake hands
with early breezes.

The sights and sounds
clothe your spirit
against tomorrow's promises,
weaving illusions
which may bare
a thousand sharp needs.

Yet solitude will be fleeting:
for, as surely as trees
give summer shade, moments
purple as love songs
white as whispered vows
will return when I am with you
again on that tomorrow,
as the golden fingers of morning
banish illusions, dress our dreams.

(c) Patrick Talty 2003