If you smell faintly of fine cologne…or cigarettes

or Downy or Spiced Rum, I wouldn’t know.

If you hold fiery feelings deep in the pit of your belly

 Restraining oceans of hurt that bead from your pores,

I wouldn’t know.

If you share my passion; tender, real, coddling those who are weak

I wouldn’t know

Perhaps you’ve finally carved a way out of yourself;

I wouldn’t know

If your hair curls under, turns out, is dull and dusty grey or hangs

…….. just so, to shade the guilt that floats rooted,

Like lily pads on the swampy green of your eyes,

I wouldn’t know.

If you like jazz or classical, or cowboy blues

Or live life with the energy of a gospel choir

I wouldn’t know.

I was once a first soprano and now I sing low, but on key;

Carefully tuned to the harmony of the life that surrounds me

This, you’ll never know.

But, even in your absence,

I will always sing.