Full Moon
Light plays
across my soul
with the taunting touch of a lover
resting softly on places once dead
now unfolding, surprised
by color, texture, warmth
But then - gone
no, there, again, flitting
lighting yet another gray valley
arousing emotion
where none had existed,
or maybe had once
but learn-ed dullness
caused it to
retreat
hide
Feathersoft,
erratic, even playful
movements
my mind tries to
anticipate or follow
in vain
only able to allow
the play to
entice,
licking away
thin layers
of doubt,
regret,
shame.
Spaces
where only a “now”
blossoms - shyly first,
then emboldened
by each random
touch
Copyright © Susan Buchel | Year Posted 2011
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