To where do lost desires disappear?
I have a theory, strange though it may sound:
They’re lost out on the red and white stone pier
Where memory’s white mists are all that’s found
Red Gwendolyn was once my every thought,
For heart’s desire kindled when we kissed;
But long ago, that faded into naught,
On out the pier, amidst the swirling mist
To share is human:
