A Vision Of You

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Was it yesterday or in some past life

that I sat in your kitchen,

or some lovely place deep within,

by a window with the curtains

rustling lightly

in a warm breeze?

You were a vision

just standing there,

in that imposibly clear crystaline air,

like a dream, but then,

that couldn’t have been,

because you were not yet born.

A vignette then,

a picture, an image perfect,

made by some sainted artist

in a world where perfection

does not exist,

except for the perfection of you.

But, of course,

it was just a moment

and then that moment became another.

and you just slipped away,

something never meant to be,

or a promise

of something yet to come.

Russell Rosander 2/11/16

Barra de Navidad

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