Regarding, and the Quest for, Love-Lost
August 2006

Inspired from a suggestion/conversation with friends

We never found James Dean that night
Nor the next, or any
We searched dark alleys in our sight—
The hours spent were many

We delved the embers, glowing red
Till skin was blistered raw
But pain won’t render all ahead—
Our quest left us in awe

The posters did not show his face
Although we missed it so
The wind itself seemed to erase
That voice we used to know

The leaves fell down in springtime
The snowflakes fell in June
Without James Dean to warm our clime
The sun felt like the moon

We never traced James Dean again
We faced the wall by choice
Seeking out the other Men
Who took from us our voice