Still, I Wonder

of the gypsy’s daughter

In the parade of youth’s many untruths Set away on a vermilion day Astray, the pecking order now decayed Frayed at its edges in the Sun was you To say I chanced a look would be uncouth Not quite the truth, such, you glittered as gold Foretold was the culmination of youth Such charmed and nonchalant beauty I recall And since we had met that previous time A second breath was needed to define Before me the daughter of a gypsy A hippie no less, who sold his wares wide To leave his bride, son and daughter reside As modern-day gypsies — anything but More like a businessman not yet gone bust But thence were you made, the fruit of his loins As you strode the stage of ecstasy wild You didn’t know you were a golden child While men froze in your wake and innocence Fell around you with their jokes primitive I too sunk before I could swim, then dreamed Such rare perfection goes rarely unseen But without ego, or pride, in a class I should have made that thing last, not one night Or less than a half night — what should have been Such are the roving treasures among us Who sweep before our eyes, not to despise But worthy of highest honor, a throne Of sorts — not second or third choice or fourth But highest among noble creatures sought All but gone, but still in wonder I’m caught