Forced to look upon a star
that gypsy’s mind wandered far
and trespassed into other lands
beyond the borders of her time.
But she withdraw in tandem with
the slow downturn of tired eyes
and she was then amazed to find
she found love not on this here land.
She thought to look again up, up,
but how the land twisted, turned,
and she dared not lose her grip
on her perceived true home.
She trundled forth amidst the gloom
and watched the pass of minutes, hours,
till finally she counted years
and then more years and years.
She never found love, no, not ere
upon the straights or corners, bends,
of mother earth’s so hard terrain
that made her twist and turn.
She twists and turns until this day
seeking strength to look again
but stars are hidden by the clouds
that float unbidden into mind.
Or does she call them in, in, in,
to simply block out all she knows
so she can trundle on and on
amidst the gloom of mortal life?
Perhaps she does, perhaps not so,
but who can know a gypsy’s mind
or why she sighs and sometimes cries
in the middle of a twist and turn?