Impressions of You

I thought I saw you once
In the long Ohio December
But it was really January
And it was really your sister.

You danced, in the quiet light,
Beneath the dim music,
With a friend while I
Rode off to some future engagement.

Your hair leaped to my eyes,
Though your eyes never had,
And I formulated a title page
To a new, uneasy chapter.

In the market place,
You talked him down to save
Me the money I had slipped
Casually into your oracle.

Coming home, we spoke
To self-duplicities at some
Distant reunion, and you flickered
In the candles on the dinner table.

At great distances, I rolled over
In some filament of morning,
To the phone ringing
You into my head.

I felt the chase sneak
Into my eager toes
And I came close –
You will never know how close!

To be quite frank, I never
Saw you with him, and then
You were, so I sat and drank punch
To keep my stomach from falling out.

Then you hopped, little rabbit,
Between two gardens,
Wanting one, and leaving
Only when it rained.

Finally, though I’m really not sure,
I saw you walking toward the sunrise
As the moon set behind you
And a star fell into my hand.

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