Longing for Light

Like a premature February Flower
She turned and twisted
Adjusted to any light and warmth
Offered by the moody
unpredictable sun.


The moon
is sinking low
behind the pale horizon
and I am alone
haunted by a shadowy sea
of starlit memories
I take my solitude
by the hand
and together we walk
along a prayer-spangled beach
untroubled by the drifting years
of the night