Distance an acute disclosure—


where you might be,

who might be holding you

this frigid night.

No, I have not forgotten

your semblance, the facts

of your presence,

even your smell

haunts me still,

and thank goodness

at least I have

this haunting from you,

sometimes by dream,

other times memory,

like following you

up the white dot trail

to the peak

of Mount Monadnock,

or that dare you gave me

a warm June evening,

at dusk along

the Farmington River.

For so long I railed against

these permutations,

trying to shake free of the way

they wrap around my ankles

to trip me up. No longer.

Now they are as welcome

as the moon rise,

knowing the gap

between us

never to be bridged.

8 thoughts on “Moonrise

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