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Rated: E · Poetry · Arts · #1952246
A northern man's wonder at a southern woman's mystery.
Sounder Lost

There was a moment
that evening,
as a soothsayer's waltz
with reflection,
poured over us,
a cryptic rune!

As I gobbled cornbread,
a sweet savory filler,
feeling as though
we composed
the new version
of Porgy and Bess,
a southern woman
and poor man,
I studied you.

Swaying, trance-like,
humming,
resonance from within,
you slipped deeper
            and deeper
                  into that sea of self.

The sea beyond our
sensorial reach,
where we can not
communicate
or touch,
where, like in water,
one does not
weigh the same.

I could not sound
the depths,
and at that moment I felt
your mystery so
unfathomable.

...not a bad thing,
but a thing of wonder.

I sat watching, a sailor,
adrift
in a lifeboat,
peering intently into that
opaque body of water,
waiting for the
mermaid to
surface.

END

...for Nancy.
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