In the quiet of this hour—

I ran into her

I ran into her

At the most importune
Time and the weirdest
Thing is that I didn't
Recognize her, so I asked
Myself seeing her
At a glance, who is
She that inspires these rare,
Feelings; her annals are
Not recorded in the files
Of my past; there is
No mental document that
Can be used to decrypt
Her identity, and
Thoughts of her flew by
Like a wayward bird
Lost in the convolutions of
When I'd known someone
No longer in the here and now
But only in the empty,
Shell where everything once
An obsession is fossilized
And I ponder
In how many hearts
Will I be mere vestige of
A bygone affection,
Place where there is neither
Ache or angst but only
Transformation in continuum,
Night and day,
Dark and light,
Warmth and chill, all in
A bottomless funneling fusion
©2010 j.a.o.a.


Wilderness of maw-

Little moon-