Work Text:
First and Last
I saw him first across a crowded room
and wondered at his dignity and grace.
He didn’t see me, didn’t now I watched
the play of light and shadow on his face.
I saw him last when least I thought I would
and couldn't think of anything to say.
The life we'd shared was of another time.
Our love, like morning mist, had blown away.
The Clock
The ticking of the mantle clock,
the passing of the years,
reflect the beating of my heart,
the falling of my tears.
Time heals all,
I've heard it said,
and maybe it is true,
yet years have passed
since last we met,
and still I weep for you.
The ticking of the mantle clock,
like some dissecting knife,
cuts with bitter memories
the heartbeats of my life.