Moore didn’t have Susan
In mind, and whether she met
His standards, she met mine,
And it didn’t matter whether
She measured up to an absolute.
I wasn’t the only one pursuing
Her back in those days. She
Was someone worth pursuing:
her laughter, smile and quick
Wit. Her beauty at that time
Though fleeting as it seems
Now, even lost from the
Photos I searched. Cries
From crows out of trees
In unconcern, immune from
What we think, those of us
Who dwell below, though they
Swoop down from time to time
To wrest some small morsel
That for all I know is
Beautiful in their eyes.
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