(written 2003)
What is that look in their eyes,
the look that comes at “goodbye.”
The look that says “Until when?”
Instead of “then.”
What is that stance they take,
the one that fears a handshake,
the stance that says “Don’t touch,
I like you too much”?
What is that feeling you get,
when your caught in that net,
struggling to find a way out,
because you doubt?
What is that feeling you feel,
in that appealing appeal,
over-flowing the flowing bowl,
and losing control of control?
The ageless treasure lost in time,
no gypsy chord can reason or rhyme;
it is the sigh of soft content,
in an old picture or a soft accent.
And only then is it briefly seen,
like a distant phosphorescent gleam;
written by the whispered pen,
saying “until then” instead of “when.”
-JHJ