By Silvana Krculic

Return to me
late at night,
when New York sleeps...
we will watch the nights glow,
from a different perspective.

Return to me
while the summer is here,
we will revive...
remembrance of old times.
I'll be waiting,
on the crossway,
because I love mild winters.

Return to me
while our thoughts are fresh,
and the day is
ready to transpire,
into a low tide-
and watery flamelet.

Return to the city...
even for the last time,
and instead, on the sidewalk,
on our hearts-
we will engrave...
something the storms
could remember...

Return-
not for simple everyday chaos-
but when the moment touches eternity,
we could talk about poetry,
or the faraway shore of Istria.

Return
with quiet footsteps,
so the world wouldn't be
insolent and flurried,
and your face not faded,
but joyous with gladness.

Return...
so we could be one
with the universe,
and in our souls, we will cherish
remembrance,
of the past summer's.

Return
to the village, forest, field,
or the street without the number,
and if I don't find you
nevertheless...
I will be dreaming.
(1990)
Silvana(Brkaric)Krculic

Submitted By Silvana Krculic

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