Words Are Worth More

         
As swans cut lines through sheets of dying sun,
As evening sails cast waves of shimmered light,
I raise the canvassed frame so you might see.
   
I know your eyes will not behold this place.  
Just as the seen becomes its life,  I fail.      
My heart's impasse - for you are there not here.  
         
My hands do not describe your shoulder's curve.          
I cannot find the sunset in your hair.          
My lips can't taste the last green ray of you.          
         
The swans have fled to find their nightly roost.          
My graven image glows false purple light.          
If only sails were lovers' sheets tonight.