Out in the world,
dreary and loud,
there is a sound,
a small whisper
Muffled by the brakes and horns of traffic
on a lonely rush hour avenue.

Lovers eyes meet
passing across the screen
destined to cry
bitter drops in screaming vain
Desperate they long for arms and lips
holding them close in early mornings fog.

Soft is the resonance
heard only in heart,
aching and knowing,
steady and strong,
Fervent in the soft placeurance that the day will come
when loves voice will be hushed no more.