I am staring at an unbalanced tree,
black carvings deface its stability
and the moment is blemished-
like a photograph long ago taken
with loving hands of summer,
now but a shrivelled memoir.
She skips the stiff beat,
jumping into watery fields
permanently drying the regret.
I close my eyes-
for who needs sight
in a colorless thought?
She comes passionately,
tying her red dress
around my waist,
and connecting lips
with my listlessness.
Day brightens
and looks upon beauty,
without any tragedy.
The dancer excites,
holding an umbrella,
for everyone-
the sick, the mourning,
yes, even for the hearts
that were hopelessly lonely.
