I walk through the halls of time
Remembering memories of past lives,
Of days where my hands and mind, unbound,
Found me in happier places;
Like fields of golden sunflowers, and lovely
Beaches on the coldest of winter nights
Where we gazed upon the ocean waves
Violently breaking over the dunes.

We used to sit on the lifeguard’s chair and
You talked on about your troubles, your
Hopes, your dreams, and your fears.
All the while I offered nothing of myself
In return.
How selfish was the silent girl--half listening,
Half dreaming of finding the love of her life
Waiting for her far beyond the last warning
Buoy, rocking and tossing from the
Whispering winds.
I seemed to be listening, yet I was preoccupied
With some insignificant self-defeating train of thought,
Some wretched mystery I had created for myself.

Now that I am lonely again, my friend,
I expected to find you here waiting for me.
I half expected that you would see what a
Fool I have been to expect anything from you at all.
Forgive me friend, for I have sinned.

                                                             February 6, 1998
                                                           --Kim Clemente