Dusk In Early Spring

                                           The dogwood has flowered –

                                           white blossoms
                                            in the tumbling hair of night.

 

                                            A train window
                                            captures her look
                                            as its passenger car
                                            moves through the canyon.

 

                                            Someone has left
                                            and though he's a stranger,
                                            I know this journey, remember those days
                                            drifting like candle smoke
                                            into your shadow, your absence.