Shading the Dark



Shading the Dark


The whirr of blood sucking bats
tempers the evening with ebony air

I’ve wondered about you across
those white stones, dressed

in black, coat and boots.  Your dark hair
stirred by a vortex of wind, your eyes piercing

my chest until I can hardly breathe.  My hands
extended to capture the chill of your pale face.

I thought the season had turned its back on me
and I could hear the gulls cry as we strolled

through red-mottled relics.  I thought you
were bigger than life, but now I realize

you were a peasant with nothing more than
good fortune, and the knowledge of mimicry. 

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