Chiffon sheers moved gently
in the high-rise heat
that summer afternoon.
I watched them breathe
as you lay sleeping.

They spoke to me then,
as now, softly curling
like ocean waves
whose ebb and flow
mark the pulse of time,
whispering, now, now.

The drapes still float,
softly billowing in their
gossamer choreography:
A timeless waltz, endlessly
moving to life’s rhythm.

Rising and falling, they
silently sway, a seductive
invitation to dance
time’s pas de deux
when past and present
become forever now.