Almadona Poem by Mark Money

she came to me in a dream;
in the brush of leaves,
as a breath of cool air on the pampas.
she was breeze and bright eyes
believe me, i fought to keep her.
but the same wind that blew her in
twirled her from my grasp-
instead of waltzing,
i was spinning only air.
my hands were empty
my heart was

too full to explain-
someone will see my eyes and i'll turn away.
but i won't look away
'cause she came to me in a dream
and i'm desperate to get to sleep
but in the brush of leaves,
i hear the wind whispering her name

almadona

almadona

© 1994 (Tulsa, OK)