Mark Scrivener

Poetry Poems Original Verse

Sunday, May 17, 2015

A winter half-moon westward pales

and blurs in high and icy cloud-

a cold wind roams through starless darkness

and stirs the darker trees

to secret whisperings.

I think of you,

still mountainscapes away

and wonder at a love so newly-flowering

and wish for some companionable days

and stare into the coldness as dark sight

and fear far distances

that hide like night.