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I’ve seen her during late afternoons ….
When hues of gray smudge the murky sky
and stillness creeps upon the quiet earth.
Her happiness hanging by a string;
she waits for the hours to rush by.

I’ve heard her during early evening ….
Uttering a prayer to the wind,
caught in the throes
of some otherworldly Angelus.
Her whispered invocation
proffered to our God of death and birth.

I’ve sensed her vexation
during the early hours of the night ….
As the world lies at twilight’s edge,
eagerly she looks up at the ashen sky —
while the full moon rising like the sun,
watches her slowly coming undone.

I’ve felt her loneliness
in the middle of the night …
Pierced with sadness,
she yearns with growing dismay.
Her solitary serenade broken
by the sound of successive knocks.
Her breath quickening,
at the turning of the knob ….

I’ve seen her lost every night ….
Frozen by a spell,
enlivened by a kiss.
The moonlight filling her head
with intriguing visions
of succulent ethereal bliss.
But when evening draws closer
to breaking dawn,
she lies despairing on her own.
Burying her tears at the presence
of silent pillows and empty sheets,
breathing in the warm lingering traces
of his bittersweet fading grace ….

I’ve seen her suffer
each passing night ….
Naked … alone,
hiding her strained face
listening to distant sirens,
weeping and turning away
from the tacit moon’s silver knowing gaze.

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