The Presence of Love: a cancione

I cannot say I know love
the way some would say they do;
I might not recognize it
passing on the avenue.
In a bleak and somber alley
on some cold and rainy night
some amour may say, “I see love”;
the chance I would, too, is slight.

It has found me now at last;
this to me, is a surprise,
In spite of all my efforts
to remain somewhat disguised.
I can recognize its voice,
the calm beauty it brings near;
and the soft words of comfort
that it whispers in my ear.

No, I don’t know to name it
or describe the way it walks,
but recognize the cadence
in the quiet way it talks.
I did not see it coming
yet its presence in this place
says that it knows who I am,
and will not forget my face.

06 APR 2004

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