The Bisque Moon

The Bisque Moon by Gwendrina

Clouds surround your face
like a hood of fur, fox-silver.
Sabled and glancing softly
on the night
                  you emulate the look
                 of his late wife.

No one knew, not even him
how darkness pursued her, paring nerves
with a sharp ache.
                   Suspicion
that cored her faith
in anything, anyone.

Tonight you loom in the cold sky
causing men to stare and women to find
a familiar grace or fear
in your countenance

                 Even the widower
steps into the garden, grieving enough
to see his Irina ressurected. He imagines
her eyes lowered, turning from
the woods where the shadow of a train
                slides through.

Orchard leaves quiver
as her diamond earrings did
on the evenng she evanesced
into the river’s mist

                  and light spun
from dock lamps gossiping in flame.
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The image is called "Winter" by artist, Sonia Verdu.