Last Air

Evening closes on an
aging Summer, becoming airless
in white clouds earned by the
sun’s last glance – a final gasp
of dusk in pearl’s pink:
– time’s pallor fading
toward the autumn of my life –
here the closing moments of
long days and short nights
begin a final dance to equanimity
the evenness of night begging solace
from the promise of dawn, like
the loss I feel since you left – it
lays iridescent claim to my heart,
rains in places I can never reach:
light dimmed by nightfall-final say.

-edited- © K. James Ribble


I sing now in a key
of awe and lament
in this moment singing
Songs of memory released
and unencumbered by time
parsing through me as I
love in the face of loss,
in twilight never known
piqued from the fount of a
simple look you dreamt my way
dreams of past lives
they come in absolutions
and the reckoning of wonder
I speak now in a language
I cannot articulate
where we exist in an absence of time
of quiet, of peace and an overwhelming
sense of gratitude edged in
the twilight of miracle
Like seeing the reflection of timelessness
seep through the sky’s canvas of blue
— from a lake’s alpine mirror —
revealing I am flayed
among the stars and their kin


Incantations of summer bear
witness to winter using autumn as her
bridge, so

I forego the loss of light each day
only to bring prominence to providence

opine quietly on the conifers in their
confessions of synesthesia and lay to
rest on cue imminent as an autumnal equinox –

any misgivings I may have had are now
dissolved into the long road ahead
measureless in its primacy yet undiminished
having made ready my own confessions

of all my love for you

Immeasurable Twilight

There is a song in the day’s remaining sunlight
that fires pink on Sierra browns, reflected
delicate in the strands and traces of your hair,
the catered glow of your presence forming
an audition to the edge of Autumn

This is a Summer that presents herself now
in terms of color, in stark melody and
intemperate decisions – given the length
of time one gives in a life of wonder –
like the premonitions of my dreams

giving way to your cosmic Light –

Here in this immeasurable twilight, I
linger in the realm of your eyes
like a lost star formed in the birth
of a Chaos in tatters, as your stare bores
into me and I forget where I am

Were it not for this lucid frame of reference,
the light noted languorously in degrees
of ascent, while you and I comprise
the captions of antiquity, as our time here
is lost forever in the memories of my heart

© K. James Ribble

My View

My view clears the bow of

Your horizon, the shape of

Its cantaloupe orange burned

Into the cleft of time

Its pirouettes in favored light

spread Clear, opaque as moist rain,

Paired to my heart’s countenance

Of grace in metaphors for eyes

Of Feathered daybreak, enveloped

purely as my devotion to your being –

So Come to me in lilac and jasmine,

In the ascendance of who you Are

I am in infinite wonder of having left

My heart to no one but you.

threadbare the stars

The stars are making noise


While a motionless moon

        Lays flat across the arms

        Of night

Her glyphs left in-situ

A wild thing in oviform

Flying in the flogging

Of daylight

Pallid in the paucity

Of Star birth, they’re

Members of a tribe

Known only by the Old Ones

The lines and hashes of kindness

        borne of them

        but for the languid

elements of reminiscence and

a threadbare patience

            left alone in a sanguine sky

© K. James Ribble


she talks to me in a sweet mountain
breeze in the looming nocturn of a
tinctured sky, the leafspeak and whispers
that sound like the color of your eyes

in the soft swell of your clavicle
the clavichord plunge of your lips –
I am lost in the language of your
curves found in frequency and forum

All of you emanating in the hymn and
harmony of your form, an azurestill of wonder
where sound lays seamless across time
time that cannot speak nor ply my heart

against these fulminations, the incantations
of your song, the native tongue of your
figure in fuchsia pressing softly, ever so
softly on my soul as evening serves us life

nectarean and unremitting

© Thespian Drummer


I am open to you.


Like warm pockets of water

In the ice of Superior,

 -and you look at me-

Suspended from access and weight as

I become Admission to this moment:

Like a Capillary of time’s aperture,

Free-falling toward your light, after-glow

Of your own expansion, as your essence

Cartwheels among a thousand dreams

Into waves         of us on

           the shoreline of Emerges

Onto your own Shoulder of Orion

Salted water on a fresh abduction

Entrusting the majesty of love

To the Open sea of us,

So There are no other gateways –

Beside the one I walk towards

                            I Exit into your breathing,

                            Into your eyes.

the sentience of time

The forest beckons me, its floor

calling me to the entrance of her daylight

            smothered in green

            flush with the touch of moss

 and the element of Water –

In this elevation I am floating

hovering above the nothingness of clouds as

            they carry me, carry me far beyond

            the calling of my name

            where air is water like the aster blue

apron of carriage, of time’s sentience in

the nature of Light, beyond my own hand

where lies your approaching touch

            never once doubting my intonation

            borne by the color of your eyes –

© Thespian Drummer

Where the Stars Weep

At prevue’s glance, shown in
a murmuration of memory
such purity in motion

where I draw in to you
without question – resolute
in my dream that culminates,

enlumines the form of your Light
known only to you and I
where the stars weep in agony

of losing their sight to the
soft bezel of your eyes and the
measure of your laughter

long before these words unfold
into the night of skies —
into the day’s last gaze of sun

In to you

Drunk in your sovereignty
Ownership has no presence
Here, even if

If all the world
Were the bounty for
My love for you

I would never release it
There is nothing in
This universe that

can compare to the
gainful look of your smile
bringing Tears to the wingspan

Of every swallow in these lands
where I am yours
we belong to us

©Thespian Drummer