Myrna Caldberg

With seasoned amazement, you walk along the sand Myrna Caldberg left her mark on your mystery angles, oh yes, Her and Jeff left you for good on their plane ride to Egypt, Cairo, where my Yolanda waits for me You said, your sloping brown arms sparkling in the sun with Whiter palms; you told me of my unknown love when we were Palm-palm, told me I could never be yours Because Yolanda is mine, Unseen, unmet, and incomprensible, Though the plane tickets are gone, Leaving us on the beach Entangled in desire.