"Thy gold hair likes me well
And thy blue eyes," he saith,
Who chooses where he will
And none may hinder - Death.
I have written two poems about her. One is called Adelaide At Saranac, and is in my HappenStance pamphlet, Will I Ever Get To Minsk?
My 2014 collection, Come Close And Listen, includes the following:
The Poet Who Wrote Of Moths
She was
quick and silent,
never seeming
to enter a room.
And on the stroke
of an invisible clock
she vanished
as she'd come.
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