That Old Cabin
That old cabin where I first held you
After we professed our fondness for each other
Will soon be far away.
I will remember the moon, shy though curious
Behind her curtain of night clouds whispering a fainted light,
Brittle wind between our chatters and footsteps,
Hand in hand until I walked you back, a hug and “goodnight”.
In quiet moments a voice would ask “what is it that has transpired
Between us? Memories of pain and sorrow from past love drifting behind
A shield of fast falling autumn leaves searching for a sanctuary
Within a new season? Or is it the genuine fondness that allows us
To hear the intimate of time
And feel the innermost affection of music.
Will you think of this night when space pervades,
When the timid moon calls our names or when
The wind echoes our voices in the grass?
In that old cabin where I first held your hands!
Thursday, August 20, 2009