Wednesday, October 11, 2017

By the Light of the Moongate


Sometimes I arrive too soon
The light falls harsh on that moongate ruin 
Sometimes I get there far too late
The light waxes old on my new moon gate 

But once I took a photograph 
In the fleeting light, where I'd crossed her path 
Of a seated girl all dressed in white 
Poised and draped in late dusk-light






And standing up she spread her hands
As if to greet a great expanse 
I caught that glimpse of love immortal 
As luminescence filled that portal 

I didn't think to ask her name 
We parted ways, the daylight waned  
But what remained within my phone 
Would light the path on my way home.

No comments:

Post a Comment