Now ...

She wishes the moving would lead somewhere

but it doesn’t, not ever, no, not ere

but she trundles along like gypsies do

to simply end up where she’s been before.

Now this gypsy not clever to count the cost

of having to do everything twice

but bound as she is by some strange decree

she surrenders up unto her plight.

Now her wagon must hold more than before

because baggage mounts up each passing year

but her wagon grown old can’t cope with the load

and so she must enter “select memory” mode.

Now she shifts and sorts; what not to keep

to enable the love to remain undisturbed

and caught in this stage she’s a gypsy in red

as if the discarding has bled on her dress.

Now gypsies would choose to follow the river

but a drought has o’er laid the land

so off she goes in her red dress

knowing that soon the river will flow. 

And then she’ll dive in dressed as she is

and wash off the stain of unhappiness

and appear like a woman born anew

into a world not known before.

And in that world she won’t do again

what she has done before

and yet there are tears threatening to fall

for the one thing she didn’t repeat.

Now that gypsy knows well that now’s not then

and nothing will be the same again

so dance with her please under the stars
and tell her she’s lovely when free of the past!