Swelling
I follow behind but the gap increases,
The lane turns a dark misty gray,
Walking slowly and casual, swaying the hips, I run gasping for air,
But the harder I try,
The farther away it pulls,
It seems not to notice,
But you know they now know,
Then why won't they pause,
Why can't you catch them,
They are heading for something,
But what;
Finally they see you,
They still don't stop, but smile,
Then you catch up,
The lane is blue,
Once again the sun glistens down brightness,
Then again you fall behind,
The lane is dusky and shallow,
And think to yourself,
What crazy things you will do,
For a pure and evident moment,
Then the cycle restarts,
And you think and dream,
How could you possibly bring them back,
Now they are gone,
You knew they'd have to leave,
At a certain point, for some vague reason, you thought they wouldn't;
But again why can't you understand?
Brigit Jensen
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