twyla 3-size 1 - crop2 - COLOR1


        Once upon a midnight bleary as I sat tap tapping on my computer keys there came a sighing, gently prying from my heart, a sorrow for my unobtainable love, signifying, “Katylyn, I never stop thinking of you.”

        I stopped tapping on my computer keys, stopped my semaphore sadness for the key to her love, untouchable evermore.

        I sighed, again for my eternity’s end, for, “The moon outlasts all love,” as I stared into midnight,  reflecting a pale and immaterial purpose in the window.

        The full moon had arisen in majestic luminance, the stars parting.  I recalled Katylyn’s amused observation from our Paris balcony that the same moon is seen by others beyond our horizon.  I don’t know why I should remember that except that Katylyn had gone beyond my horizon like the memory of sunlight.

        My hope was that the sun also…

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