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.