A pallid Moon rose slowly over the mountain;
On the eastern shore of the Lake;
As we sat there sipping wine ;
Watching its ascending majesty.
It was a harvest moon nearly at its full –
A silent orange glow throwing golden shards across the lake
And as the deepening purple filled the valley;
And the first star appeared; you pointed to Jupiter
Its not a star I said and you went again into your silent hurt,
And as each star gently punctured the canopy of the night;
I saw each infidelity grow more stark;
Each sin against your r softest nature;
Brought with it the guilt of the unfolding dark.
of the September evening drove us back inside the pub
And that spell; that enchantment
Which should have been ours to share
Went behind that other cloud which had drifted between our souls .
And we also feel that spiritual chill of imminent loss .
The moon would settle in the west
And Jupiter with its moons would follow,
And the countless stars which numbered my infidelities to you
And all would rise after sunset tomorrow.
And you were after all your ultimata.
And would you believe I went there last night ;
And I realised that night was almost thirty years ago.
© Copyright 2016 donkylemore. All rights reserved.
Short Story / Commercial Fiction
Poem / Flash Fiction
Essay / Memoir
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