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FERRIES AT NEW YORK HARBOR, 1896  (VILLANELLE FOR ….)

 

A white dress she had on, holding a white parasol.

I only saw her for one second.

No month has gone by I haven’t thought of that girl.

 

I could not feel the ferry move, so vast was its hull.

For her I would have refused heaven.

A white dress she had on, holding a white parasol.

 

My friends reassure me that my life has been full,

Yet the feeling has never lessened.

No month has gone by I haven’t thought of that girl.

 

The two boats passed. I doubt she noticed me at all.

Why mention feelings, as if they’d be beckoned?

A white dress she had on, holding a white parasol.

 

This is mere nature, like summer turning to fall.

Better look forward. Time won’t be reckoned.

No month has gone by I haven’t thought of that girl.

 

Yet even if we’d met someday, say at a ball,

Could she ever choose me first not second?

A white dress she had on, holding a white parasol.

No month has gone by I haven’t thought of that girl.

Brian Umana   2014