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