Places I Have Been

     In the morning when the dew
     is frosting on the lawn
     before the day has had its way
        with dawn and fragile dreams

     we speak of traffic and the sunrise
     as we hold tight to memories
                        of faces seldom seen
     and the sky becomes an ocean
     and the day becomes a sigh
     and the morning sun keeps rising
               'til it reaches noonday high

     and the song becomes a melody
     that rambles through my mind
     of faces that are seldom seen
               and hearts that intertwine.