Wednesday, March 01, 2006


There exists within my mind
The thought that I might find
A love so fleeting so escaping
That its discovery opens to me
A wealth of possibility
Behind whose doors are those things
That cause poets to write
And singers to sing
About their muse
That which can so easily confuse
Confounding expectation
And limiting one’s observation
To only that which exists within the pages of lore
And the staff of score-s
Of missed opportunity
And that which is tragedy
As you hold to the possibility
That maybe
This one
Might be

©2006 J. Damany Daniel

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