Snow Moon

You come to me

like the sound of rain in summer
a faint rhythmicity in your chaos

almost circadian

like the way an audience of memory
crosses downstage chiasmatic, full of life

like the snow moon

grown gibbous tonight in time she
didn’t mention all the ways she has me

in her silver haven

where life made leading the course of living
our path reside in a great loop of time

across the campaign of crying

in a matte effect of forgone emotion
recalling all the ways, all the sweet ways

that I love you


© K. James Ribble

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