designed and crafted by a masterful hand
             a finely tuned cello, no one played
she was, a candlelight dinner marinated for years
             reserved to a table without a chair
    protected from tears, a heart worn on a sleeve
        with an umbrella made of paper Mache

         a shooting star crossing a shrouded night
                as pointless, a letter left unread
      a ballerina exhumed from an aged music box
           then discarded for the contents within
an empty pew would have made the same difference
         if at the end of a road less traveled instead

          a painted egg behind a childhood swing
       the one that hadn't been found
a dusted book discovered from a second shelf nook
        returned before the pages had been read
he was, a singing bird, without as much as a word
   released for the two that had not made a sound
a diamond unclaimed, hocked for more of the same
          should have been on your finger instead

and sometimes we gaze at neutrality
the blue sky is neither good nor bad
to balance ourselves with that which we know
with that which we don't understand

to level a world which is round and uneven
when views blur the edge between waters and sand
as well is the peace of resign in daydreaming
as well is the calming of holding your hand