Tuesday, March 15, 2016
Under the Crescent Moon
As a fingernail moon snagged on the cobalt sky and
scudding clouds crested on the high-blown night,
I came to you too late.
As the fading curtain fell to reveal a wave of stars and
a shower of illumination strafed the hardened crust,
I came to you too soon.
As the rising sun breached the curve of the earth and
a fragile hoar frost conceded to the dawn of the day,
I came to you on time.
In the sharp thin air of that tranquil morning,
With gales of ragged breath unfolding at your door,
I came to you.