A Nana’s deep words and photos
dance with and grip my soul:
Canada geese in flight. Moon rise.
An autumn river’s flow.
Unknown, she grew up and lives
amidst fall’s brightly-hued leaves.
Just as I, as a child, did:
captured by the spells that nature weaves.
She will live free (or die!)
As I did the Midwest.
She even wears the same boots as I!
We could be lovers (or twins at best).
But someone else has gone where I want to go.
I wish I was the one who’d met her long ago.
Cyrano Writer: Musings of a Revolutionary Romantic Poet 