I read about the how and the why
and the where and the when
of love
and rarely see plain words
that show the range of reaction
of love made manifest
giddy night time
singing to the moon
babbling inanities
to all the friends
who make time to listen,
scribbled words
as blind offerings never posted,
damp misery
crying to a nighttime pillow
salt tears falling
into your morning coffee
and nighttime soup
and the worst
looking up at the window
where the lover lives
deaf and blind to you below
and yet I know
all those
who have been out on that limb
and have come back
are rarely defeated
and quickly set out
to once again gamble
in the crapshoot called love