Together the landscape before us
finds comfort in the light diminished

the chiaroscuro of time we walk
discovering the same toile colors

through the same months and days, like
shallows through warm pockets of water

in a cold sylvan lake, like an awakening in the
sanguine fog of memory as a dream, bold

as the tempera of optimism blossoms
pretentious in the swollen mouth of measure –

like a hesitation slowing us to moments,
showing us the open wounds of pride

betrayed by the sincerity of our honesty, our
deepest hearts grown gibbous in the winter

of our familiarity, where a word read triggers
dreams of something you swear you dreamt

before, like a vision just outside the grasp
of recollection in the faded ocher shadows

of a snow-drifted stairway blurred in the
sienna tone metonymy of a life gone wry.

 
© K. James Ribble

>Writing Prompt: existential dissonance<