As you walk away into the mists
Of my longing stare
Vanishing from sight,
Like the long ago train I missed
Lurching drunkenly
Into the foggy night,
I stand there, irresolute, wondering,
Was I late
Or did you leave too soon?
All I'm left is your fading snapshots
Fluttering blithely
In the light of the moon.
But your eyes, they hold mine breathless
Reaching out
From the fraying prints,
Locked in time, the leveler nibbling away
At Eastman Coloured passions
Revealing old love's sepia tints.
© Manic Sylph 2015
