'Felicta...Angie...Felicta! ' <br /> <br />I smile <br />to see the sound <br /> <br />of my words <br />translated into breath <br /> <br />the ghost of the sound <br />dancing before me <br /> <br />on the cold night air <br />pierced with stars <br /> <br />watch as my words <br />travel halfway across the world <br /> <br />translated into <br />the little breeze <br /> <br />that disturbs <br />those loose strands of hair <br /> <br />that you absentmindedly <br />put back in place <br /> <br />& smile <br />& wonder <br /> <br />...why? <br /> <br />'Felicta...Angie...Felicta! '<br /><br />Dónall Dempsey<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/midnight-at-st-marks-for-angie/
