on a summer walk, and soft, we spoke
of all we thought, and where our dreams
might meet between
our untried youth
and the years we sought.
And sweetly, how our hands entwined;
we hoped to build a stronger tie
between ourselves, and a life thought-lived
to grant our hearts some space designed
beside the road, that steps might lead us
side by side, along our paths
made dim by fading even'tide.
And where we traveled--Lord, who knows
but hardly had a field passed
when torn by river's bending flow
we disengaged. Our hands unclasped,
each fell away, and we became
two stones on separate river banks
where half might gaze upon a half
and wonder--why this path, alone?
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