Staring blankly at the pavement.
No longer caring to dodge the puddles as he meandered along the uneven,cracked greyness of the town.
Half wishing he had brought a jacket.
The people walked around him namelessly.
The only face he had wanted to see had made him pray for blindness.
But infatuation had beat him to it.

.

*In this dark, soft, silent sky
where starlight teardrops weep
in moon glow feathered sonnets,
my heart seeks. . .

clinging to every hope,
laced of tiny shimmered dreams
now filtered through weary eyes
and worried sighs

Collecting each moment shared
within my weathered hands, mixed
with the essence of maple
and snow flakes

woven together in northern patterns,
colorful arcs on distant horizons
bidding me a good evening while
riding in on a hovering mist

As another tear paints my cheek
in transparent worry
and desperate longing for that day
when happiness finds you,

for that is my endless wish,
behind tufted clouds of life,
touching me with poetic joy,
allowing me to breathe freely

For here I stand,
eternally gazing upward,
scanning the heavens
for that elusive glistening  

in this dark, soft, silent sky
where starlight teardrops weep
in moon glow feathered sonnets,
as my heart seeks . . . your smile

.
                                                               ­                               the
              If I                                                                       valleys of  
            were                                             between      our snowy souls.
         a builder,         but           bridges               we could meet in those
        I, no longer            build                       clouds,   as    high   as     those
    would hike these                               dreams, that we dare not discuss,
  ice eyed mountains                        upon    the    footsteps    of  ­   Giants.