18 Oct 2008

White Azalea

i follow full moon
over bridge and stone
water wets my brow.
silver cast and callow,
palms held aloft
like tree branches.
shadows fall around me
dappled dark and cold.
a breath to harrow me,
a breath to slow me.
river flows like life.
an inexorable ticking
of water over pebbles.
recall the day in mirrored stream.
moments flee free fall.
the curve of her waist,
a distant memory.
hands held knuckle white
in desperation.
the hours sped quicksilver slick.
petals form a crescent moon
spilt on green lawns,
an azalea weeps white tears.

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