metempirical

by 40

autumn should have

lost some its urgency-

calmness, coolness,

luring me deeper into the shadows,

the night sky lingering before

it is welcome-

but she was looking an

awful lot like light:

light at the

end of the tunnel

the pot of gold

the promise at the end

of my rainbow-

vivid and smooth

on the surface of my life

as fresh paint.

In her

darkness becomes light.

my light to bend

and move

around

shadows and corners

illuminating this world

as I see fit.

her smile

contagious as it is

spreads across my face as well

and there we are…

here.

now.