Evening eyes

Her meanderings; light spun lantern

dusk to the tug, sleeved of loving against

chill clouds dressed in grey groundwater

of paper rain.

Her words spill to the falling; strung of shadow,

finely thread to pages of his memory: Unravellings.

Leaves; of pen uncurl in gentle descending, filling

the mind with orchards of her blossoming.

Refrain; like tall grass to the lilt of threshing seasons,

lean the thaw of cold rooms to wrapped

eloquence of her evening eyes;

the vernacular book of his purpose.

March 14th, 2011

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