Breath

93Wanderer in the Storm (1835), Carl Julius von Leypold, Public Domain

She tears me apart with moonlight
Kissing edge of midnight clouds
Silver-blue, a shine unknown
To the cult of day
Riding portentous lightning
By her wind I am blown about sidewalks
Swayed, her chilling breath
A gust which says
“Remember me”
In the midst of all life’s chaos
And worldly duty’s strife
“Remember me”
She calls through nightshine
Her freckles speckling the fullness
Bewildering a heart unworthy
Calling my name by storm
A whisper one can’t ignore

Yet for what purpose am I,
A wayward traveler,
Beckoned by her coolest breath
On this,
An otherwise absent night?

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~ And Poetry After Dark