wonderments
by Graham Forst

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DARK ROADS As twilight’s curtain falls and setting sun sinks through swarms of summer flies the road gets harder and harder to see— and, unless these restless clouds cleave and moon shines through I may not come to you. Darling, I started too late. I knew where the path was and where it led. And I knew the secret place you kept the key. But darkness, darkness of will, mind, purpose, intention blinded me, held me back, made me lag, stall. Moon, of c0urse, is every hopeful lover’s light, and if it shines tonight I’ll see my way through the maze of emotions, through the tangled vines of cheating, lies, deceit, past the jagged thorns of guile, the deep pools of refusal and negligence: Yes, I’ll see my way, by moonlight, past the black shadows of jealousy and nettles plucked by sharp-tongued anger and open your door and watch with you the fingers of eiderdown dawn raise the curtain of night and show us, through the labyrinthine woods of grief and dolor the guiding silver thread of sunlit love.

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Graham Forst