If yesterday were today, and tomorrow were today
Today – like the oak tree in the forest ,stands alone
Yet, it is not alone ,for a little gypsy has found rest under it
the rustle of the oak leaves in spring ,beckoned to her like music
and the words of the melody , she engraved in stone
Skinny legs
and big brown boots
gypsy skirts
swinging in the wind
dancing over water
mud on her knees
lost in herself
her mind on the river
the river on her mind
finding beauty in sadness
and love in the madness
her gifts are better than mine
