What was it, in the corner of my eye?
A drifting shape, coming closer, hazy
Was it you, looking without a sound
Or a distant memory I tried to catch?
Last year, twenty years, or a lie
How could I forget; call me lazy
Was it you, or another, underground
Face in the dark; door to unlatch
I felt your warm hands, I could not untie
Still hear your words, driving me crazy
Your music played, the notes I found
You and me, a frolic in our cabbage patch
Your heart and mine, in our peace
Always gentle, you are my release
© Christopher 2024
Painting: Marc Chagall
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