Ships in Gardens

This was the chocolate, so deep and rich, that they held it for only these few days.
Afterwards their hands, stained from holding on, would remind them always of today.

Dreams are pictures taken, pieced together by our mind.
Drifting we search for them even though we've already left them behind.

My dearest, to you I write, unsure if you can listen.
These words come from inside, in deep where often only I can hide.

Bright are these clouds that have appeared within sight.
In shadows we hide these things, those you can only see in the dark.

Sky blue and gray cloud has taken our sunset this night.
Careful we walk to stay hidden among this crowded park of yesterday.

Children poke the ships, they sail around to one another.
Drift ship, for we'll come. Down here, we all awaken.

Night Ride

We rode bicycles through
Paris at night.

In traffic, amongst the tourists
and the monuments.

We left the road and walked
upon the Seine.

Paris stared blindingly at
us that night.

We let go and held on
so tightly.