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And Maybe Would Still Love Her

Twisting dirt roads summertime south
In the birdsong youth of yesterday
When as a boy I had joyous dreams
Of a magical girl
And sauntered the ice-cream side-streets of innocence
Holding her hand in mine;
Endless promises were made
Spoken with love beneath apple trees
With words that sounded something like marriage and family and eternity.
There were long afternoons that seemed forever before they disappeared
Into some wistful memory that I mingle
In an evening glass of wine.
I tell myself I don’t miss her but I do
And maybe would still love her
If I found her again in a different world.

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