The commuter train whistle---
a cry of anguish
a cry of anguish
for its silent passengers.
She seeks a lover he searches for love
sadly
two different things.
Each winter
his beard returns
with more snow.
Her perfume
on my fingertips—
fragrance for a day dream.
Clouds deliver rain---
I run for shelter and warmth
small birds calmly bathe
By the wind's command
flowers bow in her presence
as my lover leaves
Ken Owen Van Niddy Press February 2015
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