A Year, Soon

I walked and waited, knew the end

Received and read, I'm yours again

Read twice, the end lost me my friend

Where just before, I comprehend: 

The start moves fog and blood, alive

And turns all dials to 365

And middle builds, the wits contrive

The end, however, breaks the drive. 

My love could play with imagery

My words could touch the textured tree

My heart replied so eagerly

My dance paired with his eyes, you see

They do not seem to see my move

My tired try, my rallied groove

My fear of loss, a miss, disprove...

In staying in, I can't improve 

Mrs.M.on.9/13/17