I

No longer real,
More like a dream,
A large vase of flowers
Picked yesterday,
Or the day before that,
When the sky cleared
After rain
And she walked
Through forget-me-nots
Or impatiens,
Sometime
Around sunset,
With perhaps someone
Playing harpsichord music...

II

The young dancer,
Solitaire,
Her hands the light
Between branches
Overhead, her feet
The flowers blooming
Across the stage,

Seems enchanted
By the light in the windowpane,
A face glimpsed in the audience,
Worlds away from here.