Black and White Sunday - A Poem

The moon reappears,

a lover so errant.

A quick glimpse of light,

its deceit not apparent.

It kisses my skin,

soft shimmering light.

Bright promise, a whisper,

uttered only at night.

In a moment it's gone,

cold taking its place.

Autumn's caress assuming its space.

For I could not own it,

it's light held no key

Captured by nothing,
not even by me.

LBJ