Passepied
Obsession will haunt you.
You fear the thing you want.
You want the thing you fear.
You slink back to your old haunt —
A red bandanna,
Blood red disrupting the white light of day.
Why can’t you stay away,
Let the waters flow gently,
Let the sands nuzzle you into oblivion?
Pass, pass, let it all pass,
Let it while itself away.
Pass, pass, like a passepied:
Eloquent and haunting,
Spirited and daunting,
Daunting and passé
Rochelle Hope Mehr
rochellemehr@hotmail.com
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