Chapel Hill, NC
The hour of silence will come just after the sun has set,
As the marching men pass along in their 3-piece suits
On the way back to their humming houses.
We take the last breath of the day, then turn away,
Allowing the breeze to rest:
Iím glad that it brought you along with your tangled locks,
The stately, barren trees see all-
Conquering the vastness of time,
Transcending reason and rhyme,
And sensing the endless appeal of her breath against mine.
Take your place in my arms just as Fate would have it;
Let it all rot away into the air
As Fate will have it, save you and I-
Itís all that matters to me:
A lingering whisper from the lips
And you will lie down before me-
The way it should be,
And Iíll stand here beside you, forever lost in the haze
Of the barely breathing summer day.
You will show me a sign of heaven this time:
This I know, for they have yet to meet
On the sacred ground around this old oak tree:
Your thick red wine, and this young heart of mine.
c. Aug., 1999 by DEM
[This message has been edited by Elliott (edited 04-09-2000).]