LOVE DOES NOT ALWAYS FIND A WAY
I seek not in your orphic eyes vestiges of hope–the elixir of youth,
But belatedly offer you the gratitude of a hapless romantic.
My humble wish is forgiveness for not finding a way.
Nostalgia is the balm for the anguish of youthful blunders.
Imperfect memory tenaciously pleads —
“Lock the doors to the immutable past.”
My wanderings since that spring weren’t meant to follow.
I am the lost hiker stumbling into your garden uninvited
Recalling a distant haven belonging to neither and
A hope of recognition before a final farewell.