“Diamonds and Rust” like Joanie sang.
Memories, I mean
I saw you tonight with your San Francisco glow
and that old double-edged blade
went piercing through my heart
leaving me bleeding
you and me
long through this autumn night
of no-sleep blues and golds
and rusty burnished reds
that cut like diamonds.
I call to you in fevered delirium
that leaves me gasping,
haunts all through the dreary day.
Can’t escape that sudden urgency.
Just like days gone by. You don’t answer.
You don’t hear me through all that mass
— your own driving imperative.
We meet so briefly
separation so long.
We are like strangers.
Yet times we have touched, one to one,
have been one strength and impulse
have known such completeness . . .
I call to you now,
hearing your voice in every song of romance.