Gypsies

Their music made me believe
in reincarnation, took me
to that place by the sea
where gulls cawed the craving,
where thunder crashed between
lightning flashing for photographic
memories-- when we walked
away from the carnival together
from the Spanish feast, we followed
the sounds of our soles, pitter-
pattering into the woods.
Through to the sea we went
even after our wallets were
spent on things that wouldn't
feed us anyway. We went
to the waves to learn the way
that understanding the come
and go can shape the story.

It was after too many tears
that the number of years
didn't balance in the book
we wanted to write together,
so now to get her back,
I beckon the skies, their storms
and their calling gulls to find
me again. I'm lost and alone,
no matter how close to friends
or my home, and the bottles
don't break so much as they
whistle the dirge that doesn't
quite reach me the way
their music did.