in those quiet hours
when dreams are born
and restless
visions haze:
in that sleepy place
i step out
and walk
through a timeless
maze.
it's at this place
where I see your face:
your image
lingers there.
i walk the
places we have
walked and
remember sweetly
where we've talked
of princes, kingdoms,
pain, thoughts of
growing old
and wisdom
brought at the
price of our youth.
in those quiet hours
i think of you.
--Maryanne Radmacher
[Print of this poem was given to me by my best friend since high school, Julie).
