The Girl With the Flaxen Hair
A lifetime passes
but she lives on, touchable now
only with mind-beams.
Walking through a cornfield together
seems like Elysium.
Imagination fills in the blanks,
her hand in mine
leads to a future memory.
That cornfield, that soft sunlight
its all smolder and smoke now,
but she is invulnerable.
She has moved to a place
just ahead of my eyes.
I see her in new yellow robes;
the dazzle of her,
waving
between the suns fading rays.
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