A Medieval Fantasy

Your hair (a silken fairy-tale pennon)
Says “No!” to my
Silent question
While you stare into the wind.

My eyes (trickling courtyard fountains)
Say “Why?” to your
Loneliness. and dream
About Love as they dry.

My heart (a weather-beaten keep)
Says “Goodbye!” to your smile
And locks itself up
Behind an arrow-scarred wall.

— Stace Johnson, 1987