|
|
Written October 16, 1999
A palm outstretched, fingers spread out
Searching.
A force, flows like liquid crystal,
Pressing.
The wind, caresses the sensory perception,
Enticing.
The fingers close, eagerly, inflamed,
Grasping.
Yet, no matter how tight they hold,
How hard they try,
How far they reach,
How slyly they coax,
It seems all in vain.
The wind slips through each time,
Leaving only memories of exhilaration.
And hope remains, believing,
Hoping,
Anticipating,
Expecting a way will be discovered
To contain the wind.
E-mail me at:SmileyCarli@yahoo.com