the moment i saw her
she haunted my mind,
a vision in sepia,
with color implied,

and pupils still dancing
in league with her smile
like she was still breathing -
- not frozen in time.

it left me to wonder
what must it be like
to bear such a hunger
and shine such a light?

i wanted to ask her
what lingered inside -
- what flame lit the pilot
that shone in her eyes.

in dreams i still travel
through decades gone by
to beg for an answer
she’ll never confide;

she only informs me
it’s no good to try,
however i chase her,
she’ll never be mine.

*
This is one of many poems I’ve been scribbling for the past couple weeks — all of them with the same title.

I got stuck on the line “dreaming of Irish girls” after waking up from a dream, and I somehow convinced myself there was a poem or haiku to be written. After the first dozen or so drafts, most from completely different angles, I still didn’t have one unifying concept beyond the title. A couple are more traditionally romantic. Some (like this one) are more sad and wistful, focused on an imagined muse that’s out of reach. This one is about a photo taken in the early 1930s, and me wondering about the incongruity and mystery of a smile during hard times.

I got a little stuck on the rhyme scheme as well, but that’s okay. I’m probably not done with it yet anyway.