Usually I imagine you
Standing at the edge of an aspen wood
Sunny windless afternoons
In a silence so deep no bird
Would dare penetrate
And yet you call me here
To ask if I can feel it too
The visible music of his arrival
Setting the leaves to quaking
Rays of the sun falling at his feet
His foot-prints on the pond
That leave you speechless
Holding me in your arms
But I can only imagine you
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