Guitar With Wind Accompaniment

Shadows touch and release

on our moonstruck porch,

leaves moving under white water.

You sing off-key with feeling.

Folk songs on a classical guitar.

I rise, my hand on the rail,

as full-blown climbing roses,

a disarray of petals,

reflect pale sequences of moonlight.

A cold gust of wind

splinters the autumn air,

but you keep on singing.

The future spins

in the weather of pines

and flows through our fingers.

It is all here,

pieces of a puzzle.

In only two lifetimes

we'll complete it.

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