Near The Twin Cities, Then Poem by Herbert Nehrlich

The howling wind was driving rain across the land,
she sat there, in her car, not fit to understand,
why tears kept rolling off her cheeks, tears from the past.
She saw him standing there and then he left, at last,
words had been tumbling through the winter-frigid air
and there was nothing left for them to hold and share.

He would be, THAT he knew, just in her simple way,
she nodded, sadly, no he could not really stay.
The music melted something in her memories,
bright images of leaves and walking under trees,
of holding hands across a culture's hostile pass,
unable still to bridge across the last crevasse.

It had to be, it seemed the proper road to take,
he looked back once just as he reached the little lake,
but, vison blurred, he saw a tiny timid wave
and then he joined the real world, that of the Brave.

Tears streamed and others passed her, had to go
no great curiosity, none saw a need to know,
she was, of course in minutes fine again
the clock showed about nine, as it was then.

That voice, of Whitney and the words, dear Lord,
it struck her heart, so deep inside, and took a chord
that had been sleeping in her soul for many years
and, with a vengeance now invaded her shy ears.

There was an urgency now, showing in her voice,
no matter what and it was not a human's choice.
She knew the truth and how it mattered to her heart
and not a minute would be wasted, for a start.

A Happy End was reached and harmony took both
and brought them to the ancient tree to take their oath.
No words were spoken though, the air smelled of l'amour
across the meadow drifted Lara's song, so pure.

For Lara, Susanna, Ruthy and for the one who
walks with me on a bed of elm leaves.