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.