There among the musty scented racks of used clothing and the faded charms of old knick-knacks I saw the wilderness rise to meet her in the gray and bare perfumed sky that left it's greeting everywhere and I did not dare to breathe.
Her face is bright as faces on the moon and I, listening like wheat to wind longing for communion left in a snow of falling flowers
Floating down feeling more alone than lovers leaving behind the used and dusty empty chairs.
