Patsy Poem

Others have loved you, too, of course, But I loved you so much that it was a pain, I find it hurts ever now, long after... I sometimes recall how near I was, And yet I never did quite attain... I could see it from near and far, Even though it missed me, All that beautiful and healing passion— Just like some old-time movie Full of kisses without fornication, Flushed like some virgin starlet with fascination and embraces And a love of dramatic entrances and exits, And lots of hurried cutaways and knowing looks... Or, much the same, it seemed Like some old time country song with a story, Made back when gals like Patsy Cline proved how a song Could reach out and break your heart, Your cold cold heart. Just because the singer's own heart sounded so true! But how could we ever resist? I could never! You were not exactly a country girl, But you weren't a cheap shiny toaster, either! Still, how you seemed a Prize to me! A Princess I could not afford. And what did it matter if we could see ourselves, No matter what else, just for a moment Reflected gloriously through someone else's song of salvation Or of salvation's loss Or someone else's Technicolor pictures of bravura, No matter how bold or false, in this or any other century?