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
 

© 2005 Rochelle Hope Mehr 


Originally appeared in The Persistent Mirage,

Issue Number Two (February 28, 2005)