amsterdam
Amsterdam
You stood in your garden, unashamed
Amid the tapestry and linen
You were framed by red neon
In the falling light of dusk
Offering the apple of your skin
I stood thunderstruck
On cobblestones of ancient ways
And the sirens in the distance
Sang out a different melody
From the one you sang to me
Your eyes did not meet mine
As you waited across that great divide
Between wisdom and a fool
For the hunger of the ages to ignite
That you never satisfy, only inflame
Vic Lortz, 1984