The Storm
- Simon Revere Mouer III
The rain pours down
Isolating me.
How
I wish you were here
Or I there.
The hiding sun
the cleansing rain
the soft sounds
speak your name -
"Dark Eyes"
Yearning mind
strains to see
the hazy image
of your form
Time is wrought
against us.
Would again the
brief encounter bless us
Be it evermore?
~
This is another poem to "Dark Eyes," the girl I met in Old Mexico. I originally had her actual name in this poem, but anonymous love appeals to a broader audience.