in blue midair
It was the twenty first of January, and cold
a needling thin rain was fellow to my thought,
she stood across the mirroring of nightly mold,
continuous the icy raindrops fell, and wrought.
How argent the details became, tho' in my glance
two distant waxen lights saluted to entice -
- "behold my soul because the night's eluding dance
invites the gazing travelers to fade on ice."
And then my thought reshaped two passengers to pair
amid that solitude and needle-stinging rain,
details that spun life's gyroscopic lift, and flare,
across the road evolved to a melodic strain.
The rainfall was transformed to skyward route and mirth
concourse of invitations to absorb me from
perceived time's borderlands that mirrored my life's worth,
descending droplets hit upon the screens to thrum.
Continuum of silver flight, in blue midair,
beloved of winter she became, betrothal grace,
rain's queen enthroned she was across the night and fair,
her laughter fled above cold January's embrace.
© 08-18-2013, G. Venetopoulos