What of those lovers, distant now in time,

Like sweet Chinook that wanders winter snow—

Absent from heart but never so from mind,

Haunting the quiet places mem’ries go.

In silent thought a sorrowed tear is shed,

Or yet a sudden warmth to wrest a smile;

An aching memory as to why love fled—

Her drudging steps along that far-flung mile.

The sweetest love may end in raging fire,

The fondest hopes may be interred in ice;

Of love and loss who knows what may transpire

When cursed Cassandra throws those amorous dice.

Though from the heart love’s essence may depart,

Her shadow lingers, branded on my heart.