The Guest

Through the wandering years, when wind cut like knives and frost like swords, you often came to me in dreams.

You said nothing and did not move. You only looked at me, your eyes bright as morning stars.

In my dreams, I asked what you wanted to say, what you had to tell me. You only smiled faintly, like moonlight rippling across the water.

Then you turned and walked away, just as you did on the night we parted.

Written in early spring, 2010.

Theme: Across the four seas, no one to watch the sunset with