In the final moments of the day
I often find you waiting
in a manifest pause
Filled in warmth
of the sweetest summer
Where even now
in the cold, inimical
bindings of the dying day,
– still
the light in your eyes
-spent in time-
crosses the aeons, and
Tends to me in a missive
from the depths of your heart
with the concision of
my breath
And I hold you there –
the day in its finality
unfolding inside me
like a tutelary
lessons of love assigned
to learned halls of my life
caste against the
stark silhouette
of Autumn’s setting sun
© K. James Ribble
Thespian Drummer 
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