copyright Nov 12, 1977
by P. R. Lowe

She passes unnoticed
the shadow of our self
She follows the sullen river
through the eyes of our passing
always riding out the storm
through endless dormitories
of closing doors and locked minds
floating on the dreams of those in time
who make it on their love alone
She owns the sylvan secret
moving through us all
like a feather on the moon
she drifts within the cosmos
and weaves us on her loom
fantastic dreams enlisted
from the remnants of the real
and still she aches
and sometimes breaks
scattering particles of perception
in our midst
For she was kissed one time too many
by a soul that lost it’s way
and in between
she found a dream
that moves her through each day