Too dark to see the page,
To see you in the mind,
But threads from the fire
Climb delicate as time.
Grey-blue sweet silences
Swirl high among the trees,
Fire under clear night sky,
Red ashes glow in the breeze.
Too dark to feel you near,
Or not enough of black
To link our distant minds,
And light the ancient track.
Memory, the traitor here;
Beauty felt, but not seen,
At the core of living flame,
Where true minds have been.
-Tony Kline