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