Red horticulture of Light
You bestow a betrayal of
Softness, an assimilation of
Daybreak into cloven darkness

Beseeched before this dawn
I run unencumbered by your
Fragrance of thyme as timelessness
Engulfs the very footprint

Of sunlight upon your face, escaping

Our horse crosses the rhythm
Of her gait revealing a fire of plight
Of lonely losses bemoaning our reach,
A cast of azalea reds as pale duplicant

So soft ascension to this lofty path
Begins and ends with us, our
Matte of cause released by Summer’s edge –
This moss covered forest consumes our way

© K. James Ribble

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