Gypsy shadows in the mirror
silhouetted in the silver
like a culinary masterpiece
I can't taste.
I remember you were freer
I can't capture all the words here
than the birds I picture flying overhead.
The music in the background
where you lived and where you went around
it followed on your footsteps
clinging soil for fertile minds.
The music in the background now
where my house has fallen down
is bleak and waves off radios
all around town.
It only serves to remind me
that you were free, that you are free--
and all I can remember of you
is the way your footsteps fell
all light silver 'cross the waterfall
you loved so much you ended there.
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