I remember your eyes
in the fields I pass breezing
the same wave in golden luster
The farms of years lean
sway the barns
bending the horizon
into unkempt shadows, that
tell me of your crooked smile
the cities harmonize
your laughter in their
crowded stretch
and life knowing windows
The windmills,
giant and playful
in broken rhythm
are the time we somersaulted
a soft cool hillside
rivers tell me our dreams, and
still know hope in quiet solitude
beneath the bridge
where the ghost of an ancient
still floats his line
and there, stretching
and shimmering
in dawns first light
are the tracks that carry
the ghost of our spirit
on an otherwise empty train
to Taiwan
Ponds are small wishes
held tightly in our hands
once again young
the day plays its melody
to the things neatly harboured
in our sad remembrance
and once vibrant vision
and I smile
with only a hint of sadness
far shy of regret
while my window down
gulps remorse
and casts it into the ditch
where crows may feast
