I was
At the front of joy
In the station of regret
[while] I waited for the next
Collection of regards –
Only to behold the inquiry
Of my desires – all for which
Those years I no longer
thought valid, between
The mirror of light from
The lake of these sorrows,
And the wonder of your
Crescent smile — so
I am profoundly yours
Into this illuminating night.

© K. James Ribble