Shirt

 I remember once I ran after you and tagged the fluttering
 shirt of you in the wind.

Once many days ago I drank a glassful of something and
 the picture of you shivered and slid on top of the
 stuff.

And again it was nobody else but you I heard in the
 singing voice of a careless humming woman.

One night when I sat with chums telling stories at a
 bonfire flickering red embers, in a language its own
 talking to a spread of white stars:
 It was you that slunk laughing
 in the clumsy staggering shadows.

Broken answers of remembrance let me know you are
 alive with a peering phantom face behind a doorway
 somewhere in the city's push and fury
Or under a pack of moss and leaves waiting in silence
 under a twist of oaken arms ready as ever to run
 away again when I tag the fluttering shirt of you.

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