The moon dominates an afternoon sky spotted with clouds.
A pale coruscate orb that
takes from the sun
her beauty.
A shadow grows beneath the cumulus
and reaches out to the bench where
I sit.
My shoulders slumped,
I look up to the fractured scape
and memory meets reality.
Another day, a different sky;
the same bench.
Alone but not by myself; more alone then now.
Her beauty,
like the sun, stolen
by my words; thoughts harsher than that pale surface.
She stands,
her shadow stretches, and pulls away
from me.