Old Love

Old love-
She is the ancient channel carved out
In the great stone mountain.

New love-
She is the tainted new-age water
That runs through.

It is the rain of a storm
Brewing violent rapids.

It is the silence of the ravine
Echoing back nothing.

When old love has her way-
And she always will,
It will all return to dust
And new love will evaporate-
Disappear with the clouds
To some foreign land,
Misting through some new mountain
That she’ll never call home.