Remember me,

as the sun crashes earthward from its heavenly home,
its red tinges reaching for the stars,
as they dance in the northern sky.

Shed a tear

as some silent, soaking drizzle pit-patters on the roof,
coaxing sleep with it's plinking poetry,
its murmuring sending sleepy heads down.

Do not cry

as the final temptress walks the rain soaked streets,
sickle scraping bare earth and eyes set only on you.

Remember me, and those stolen moments togeather,
my scarred hand upon yours,
your soft lips against mine,
my hard heart softened for just a moment,
as some surreal attraction drew us togeather.

For lg

(c) Alan Bailward, March 1998