Still in Moonlight

Pale moonlight washes over us.

Filling in the lines she fears so much.

Lines that I cherish and caress.

That I trace with my lips,

my fingers, and my eyes.

She fears I only remember

what she once was,

before the years had touched her.

She does not know

how I treasure each of her lines.

The complex web of our life.

Each one a road we have traveled.

Each one reflected in my own face.

Each one a reminder of making love,

as pale moonlight washed over us.

Reviews

[Harold Mathews]

comments welcomed