GLIMPSES

Your grace and style seem familiar

at a distance as you round a corner,

laughing down stairways and halls.

Beside me, just out of view if I look,

I feel your presence without seeing

what is half in shadow almost clear.

At close close range in perfume trails,

waters tremble undisturbed;

leaves rustle with no breeze.

Your touch, so tender and deep,

startles me from dreams that echo,

pulls me back in your arms to sleep.

With your expression averted in the dream,

mirrors reflect your aura not your face:

I know where it is at last we shall meet.

William Kester