​Soft and glowing
a pale hue.
Rainbows sparkle
on my eyelashes,
teardrop prisms
from memories 
of you.
That night of
the Super Moon,
when we listened
to howling wolves,
that ended much
too soon.
Back through the
orchard we walked,
the scent of 
peach blossoms,
morning, and
I listened
while you talked
of past lives
and seeing auras
the challenges
of vertigo.
The changes in
your body,
how youth seemed
but a moment ago.
We held hands
like teenagers,
your eyes smiling
at dawn’s approach.
We both knew
you had to leave,
so I slowed my steps,
we never mentioned,
the subject much to
painful to broach.
Now the fruit has rotted,
the pack has flown,
and you are
God alone knows where.
I only know
I wish I was there,
not here
without you
M. Zane McClellan
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All rights reserved

In response to a poem by Maria Iannucci from the wonderful blog, Reflections on Existence, titled Beautiful Blurry Moon.