To merely know your name is all I long,
to see your face and figure, if you please.
Oh how you tease to offer just one song
ere ghosting me with silence in the trees.
I heard you sing but once, your melody.
‘Twas not enough to fathom who you are.
I squint and strain my eyes, in hope to see;
but woods are thick and you have gone too far.
How long should I pursue you through the mire
and yearn to catch your beauty in a glimpse?
How far can I give chase before I tire,
when fervent march gives way to aching limps?
Alas, with vestige of your presence gone,
my memory not knowing you lives on.