From my upcoming book “Waves”

A Friend Late in the Season

Night shine times
and wind chimes
outdoors on the porch.
Pipe dreams and moon cream
gleaming rich and oily
on slow, black water.

Practicing geese fly
across this light,
and all my tomorrows are rolled into today;
hovering like moments of beaded rain
on tilted glass.

If I could cast this moonlight
onto your countenance,
would I see clearly
the thoughtfulness in your eyes?

But I can see you in the dark,
my oldest friend.
I can sense the crinkling
of your crow’s feet
in understanding
that our time is here.
For the luxurious moon has grown late,
and no one knows about next year.

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