the fraying hem of your dresslifts in the wind while you sway, rememberingthe midnight-blue gown you once wore,how it suited your style to perfection. Fearing darkness, I must confessI loved you more beforeyour voice fell back into the shadows.Yet, in your new translucencyyou seem more truthful than in April. Show me how to let the moon suffuse mewith its light the way it passes throughyour silvered formand makes it glitter like a shattered star. – Laura Ann Reed is a Contributing Editor...
