Through the woods;
no leafy green life;
no eternal summer voicesspeak

        of the loneliness.

From marshy muck;
from poke-eyed scum,a fly is replaced.
No smug froggy smile gapes.
        Discomfort carries mepast
a twig, a rock, a pool,

        not to you.

Bypassing allshortcuts; hidden
secret jungle paths, desert barren

        after youleft.

I follow memories; a wisp of something
warm.
A shape my poor,misguided eye
remembers.

        Your seeming essence.
A smell, a taste, asound.

I make my way through tangled underbrush
to that silent forestclearing.
Dappled afternoon sun, a comfortable place
to sit.

        Istand,
until you are here.