To Tad

My love is a fair and distant land,
Full of simple joys and exquisite pleasures.
She is at once exotic and yet familiar.
I count well-spent each hour I wander her territories.
How I long to explore her vast dominions,
How I yearn to delve into her mysteries.
My lips rejoice to speak her language,
But bitterly will my tongue form empty phrases,
For the urgency of routine has bid that I must quit her,
And return to the grey wasteland that is my home.
--  May 22, 1989 copyright © 1989, 2005

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