Subtlety of Form

To Tracy
February 14th 2009


Darkness descends slowly swallowing day
Which dying, melts with petulant pretenses.
Street lamps flicker, throwing a yellow ray
On cracked pavement and rusty fences.
The swirl of wind lifts the dry, dead leaves,
And I sit alone, among the rubble,
Silent, still, waiting for her who perceives:
Blind to the damage, drawn to the trouble.
She rains down glistening shards of light;
Her contour finds the subtlety of shape,
Lying atop that black shroud of midnight.
I stand, pray, wait, hope; wondrous eyes agape.
The cast of her shadow deceptively seals
What her mercurial brightness reveals