Like clouds of smoke that drift across me
these days … and those to come.
Love and feelings like warm rain
saving me from the empty summer’s heat.
Lise is here … with me in the mist
my hand in hers, our feelings one.
Time and our mortality, smoke and dust
we stand silently amid the moving fog.
We look, we wait, patient and fragile
against our future
and what will become of ‘us’.
gallagher
24 August 1985
— Copyright 1965-2008 by Dennis Gallagher —
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