Like a Sunday night movie we were
Walking along the river in the rain
Peering through the fog at the ghosts of
cities on the far side
on a winter night when the wind blew our scarves
straight behind our backs.
You are here in 1876
Reading the signs of streets where the dead walk as memories
A snowflake melts on your lip
As we listen to the darkness by the soundless water
I love to look at your face when your eyes are closed
Sweetly smiling in the shadows of moonlight
I know what you are thinking
I’m thinking too
look into my eyes and see the flowers that I placed there
for you