By Rita Melissano

tangoing as one    forgotten step

Rita Melissano

 

 

she's still here

for some strange reason

clocks run backwards                                           

the storm after the quiet                        

a phoenix's return to ashes   

Rita Melissano

countless years

when our life was a rainbow

in the night

tête-à-tête, cheek to cheek,

holding a thousand candles      

Rita Melissano

listening

to the voice within

the mirror...

its whispers a breath

left in the fog

Rita Melissano

 

 

what is left                          

of the Japanese garden                     

the lantern

a lighthouse sitting on a bluff                         

above the blue, smooth pebbles


Rita Melissano