This is our song
The one neither of us hears
This is our song, our beat the
rhythm of our dance
The one we ignore
This is our song
Now playing in the rush of our
lives
Ordinary-its hum just beneath our
currents
Moving in different directions now
Not then, when life was a cool
crisp autumn morning
Our sound crunching under footsteps
fresh fallen
This is our sound
It echo left behind in our
silence-our absence
This is our song, its lyrics
fading, curling around the edges becoming yellow
Our song
The melody faint
Barely a whisper in the roar of our
storm
Our song arranged and perfectly
orchestrated
The on we use to sing to each other
For each other, our wish
Boxes with pretty bows piled on an
afternoon in another autumn
This is our song
The one we can barely remember
Just a tune stuck in both of our
heads
Repeating itself till we connect,
the music complete and it becomes ours
This is where we are
Caught in the notes spilling off a
blank page
Lost in jumbled rushing thoughts
This is who we are
Wandering and wondering which way
is out
Bright red exit signs hidden in
moments racing towards
Hours, days, decades
Now we seem to be here-an unknown
piece of our whole
This is who we are now
An evening in autumn miles between
us
This is where we are moving-away
from our song.
This is our dance
Steps carefully cautiously planned
This is our dance
The one we use to know
Clinging to each other
Gliding across dreams, promises and
good wishes
This is our dance
The one sealed with a kiss once
upon a time
Now we can’t remember the steps our
carefully planned movements through many autumns
Our dance
You and me- young enough to be in
sync.
This is our sound
Full of lace white and new
Our sound, never reaching
Lost in cool, soon colder winds
Our sound rustling in unexpected
warmth then silenced in the quickness of frost
This is our sound
The one beckoning to us from across different
spaces----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Anna Betts was born and raised in St. Louis, Missouri. She was and still is, quiet, shy and introverted. She discovered her talent for writing early, beginning with a diary and a few short stories, poetry came a bit later. She completed the standard requirements of childhood, which included education. It was in high school where the dream to become a playwright was born. She first majored in theatre then changed to journalism, graduating from Webster University. She then followed the usual path of adulthood, marriage and children. Until recently she worked in the customer service field and is currently writing full time. She has two completed poetry collections, an untitled collection of short stories, and one day hopes to finish her science fiction novel. As with most writers she dreams to be published, more importantly to be heard.
Bay Laurel / Volume 2, Issue 2 / Summer 2013