I see—the water, turns into the cloud—

High up and float away to the North,

to marry some distant land—drench it;

Its Be-getter left empty.

 

Merry-ment? —

it was never meant to be—

to keep confined the cub to the Lair,

the eaglet to the Aerie.

 

I see—the vessel, march to the West—

heavily laden, dreaming of rock n roll,

the glint of casinos.

 

My uplifted hands loosen the embrace.

The sand slipping under my feet.

The sparkle in the eyes

meets its reflection

in the pearls rolling down.

The promise—and the awareness—

(I won't cry)—not to be FULFILLED.