5. The Apparition
©
Author: Ned Rorem
My pillow won't tell me
Where he is gone,
The soft-footed one
Who passed by alone.
Who took my heart, whole,
With a tilt of his eye,
And with it my soul,
And it like to die.
I twist, I turn,
My breath but a sigh.
Dare I grieve?
Dare I mourn?
He walks by,
He walks by.