by Ottersong
© 2001 Ottersong, all rights reserved
Wrapped in a warm shawl of memories, I sit before the hearth of my life. Flickering embers and dancing flames warm me. Music unheard and poems unwritten stir in the dark corners, forgotten as I gaze at the growing pile of ashes.
A lifetime recalled is strangely resolved. Review has become closure - except for your place in my heart. How ironic it was to find purity and vulnerability in your eyes, just when i had ceased to believe. How like me to infect our love with my cynicism, even in the face of your faith in us. On this cold night in the winter of my life, I can only write of my complete and enduring love for you. It remains beautiful and clear, an unset gemstone.
So, gathering the memory of you and love and Disneyworld to my lips - I give you this one last kiss. The flame in the hearth leaps once more, briefly. As the winter night deepens, a song dislodges itself from my memories. Rogers and Hammerstein and I send you... "This nearly was mine..."