Fugue

Fugue

And she came in from the rain
to play with me in the courtyard,
and out came the sun.

Her name was Heaven,
and she was the one.
And when she came there was music;
and when she left, there was none.

And I held her in my arms,
her neck, my fingers,
her body, she played me,
I played her, we were then
free to imagine the stars
she was the perfect instrument,
she was young Segovia's '36 Hauser,
she was his guitar.

We met and music was made
in the autumn air,
our songs like the best
of Simon and Garfunkel
and Scarborough Fair.

The day that she left,
Heaven followed suit,
and the snows filled up
to the tops of my winter boots,
and the worst thing
and the best thing was that I let
that dream go and fly free
as true love can only fly
and it was always within
my grasp, for it was really
twenty-two years ago
that that kind of
true love found me.

For when I strayed,
my true love stayed
in the courtyard.

And out of the counting
house we again came,
and it was spring,
it was spring,
and the foundation
for another year was laid.
And she was mother earth,
and thoughts of Heaven vanished,
and there was music in her name,
and I knew, above all else,
she was the one,
and there was laughter in our eyes
and in our hearts the sun.