Art by Norman E. Masters
Remember When we gazed at the sky And the trees were awash with longing, And I said, "The light of autumn is the light of melancholy The light of nostalgia on its way to the grave." But you consoled me For you replied, "But the stars they envy us, beloved. Though theirs is a veil of miracles Beyond all pale of understanding, They too are mortal Though they remain serene through The passing of a billion generations What do they know of love?"
Nov 81' -- Jan 83'