The Rendezvous
Cold and running out of light,
a winter's afternoon seems
to gather the last few things
to put on view -
clouds hurrying across the sky
with shapes that suggest a face
or a butterfly
and hanging just above
the rooftops, the pale outline
of a daylight moon.
And the mood
of a late afternoon settles here too
in the long shadows cast
by words across a page
through which the mind
passes, seeking out something
to attach to, the glow
of its own moon,
a flickering memory looking
for a breath
and ahead, lodged somewhere
in the coming dark, a small,
indistinct blur, closing in
towards a rendezvous.
Copyright © Paul Willason | Year Posted 2024
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