it's you that i now miss

it was a time before television
or radio was perfected

when poetry was important
the words and phrases dissected

seriously contemplated,
simply stated
like the dandelion seeds
without philosophical creeds
released freely into the air

blown happily everywhere

into currents they swiftly rode
nothing else showed
no signs or spiritual pointers
no businessman who loiters
on his busy trail

without fail

the wooden bridge spans
this clear creek where we hold hands
and kiss

a special angel
with wings joining our hearts

is this how it starts?
i wonder

torn asunder 

with wildness
and scents of bliss

it's you that i now miss.