Karen

This was for keeps for all we knew
so far away so long ago
I really fell in love with you
before you played the second show

White lace and grace and promises
Beguile?  Belong?  Betroth?  Beseech?
it's best to do what momma says
so very close so out of reach

The moment when the slight girl sings
that lovely voice like scented smoke
like chocolate and cello strings
like molten gold or burnished oak

I know I've wasted too much time
the one thing that's in short supply
there'll never be another rhyme
and stars won't fall down from the sky

I tell myself I'm feeling old
there's nothing I can do about it
and what I've garnered unconsoled
of love is how to live without it

Why must our loved ones disappear?
Oh won't you say what laid you low?
I know that you're not really here
it's just that worn-out radio

nostalgiaquatrain

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Darren White

March 7, 2017 at 5:30 AM

She is your metaphor for all that we lose in our lives, and grief for. I know I am young, but I have so much loss and grief and pain in my life. Enough for a lifetime, so yes, that, plus missing her wonderful voice that, yes, I know and yes I knew who you were talking about.