M oonlight
keeps early dark at bay
pressing in
night wind stirs
mocking breath of life
now lost
to lightless realm
beyond the winter chill
encircling me
no emotion
save grief
I cannot look
at broken stair
where rail eluded
grasping hand
as ankle bent
on december frost
held kindling fell
apple basket spilled
no voice came
to futile cry
those tender lips
will not know again
sweet fruit
nor breath of life
nor love
moon caresses
gentle form
now still
her light gone out
blackness presses in
*
rob kistner © 2022
Poetry at: dVerse