A Tale From A Stranger

He came with dust upon his coat, The sun behind him dying red, And in his voice the echo hung Of lands where ancient dreams lie dead. He spoke of seas with lilac skies, Of stars that sang above the foam, Of gardens lost beyond the years— And none of it was home. He told me tales of lovers pale Who wept beneath a foreign moon, Of bells that rang through ghostly towns At dusk, and not too soon. His eyes were dark with memories No fire could ever warm again, And when he left, he left behind The silence of a thousand men. I watched the night draw up its hood— And somehow, understood.