Rue

I turned to face the evening       she was there
her arms a circle       cool November: mist
the light, a fallen curtain       and her hair
a silken flicker turned        to mask her face
all given, all received       in evening’s arms
we fell, we turned the shawl       November’s mist
to circled warmth       the lightest curtain furled
til darkness fell       on everything, and gave
November back to us       returned our names
a circle cannot end       November can

 

Rue – Mark Schultz

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