Bar Angel, Lost

A moment lived, long short of sight,

The memory dark, no features bright.

She offered me a drink to share,

But my drink in hand led to despair.

She was an angel outside of type,

Though type held nuance beyond my eyes.

For years I've longed to remember her--

To catch a glimpse in mind,

To catch enough to find--

Find that lost angel.

Only hints, though jumbled since,

Are parrot bay and coconut.

Once I reasoned I had known her,

Had approached her with burgeoning question;

The question that would set it straight.

But, alas, it seemed the one,

I thought was her, that treasured one,

Was another, and not the one,

A treasure, still,

But not that one.