the Lady in the dream

Annaliese the breaths of my days
grow small leafs in a pagan design
symmetrical the constant golden
dramatic skein of another life
leads the season the notes falling
from the flute truth served as best
one can your frail figure the woman
in the wings a candled memory
which is thy truth? The leaves
upon the wind in their dancing
stories telling of the solar river
the lunar catharsis points reached
gates opened poems spoken?
Annaliese you are there unremembered
truly but the song and the wind and
the summer of this life has now passed