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.