Girl In A Dewdrop Poem by Peter Black

Where is the woman that moves in sheets,
Lies in the air, drifts on her feet,
Glides, so simply, and swims along words,
Laughs, blows kisses that can not be heard.

Her dress is soft and rough the lining,
And I think I kissed enough woman,
To know the thought that saliva drew,
That calls on a song, a voice to move.

But when I see that spinning, though gone,
I come chasing after trailing arms,
Faster! In circles for love to taste,
The lower air and a song to break.

Yet what do I grasp when my arms close:
A picture, a thought and nothing more.
I see her eyes, live, dancing away.
So I grab at my chest; scream her name.