So it ends

Saffron linen of an open sky

And on that, a reddish moon platter

In the cab, the hand-holding

Yet looking away, as if it didn't matter

Thick, cottony winter breeze

And shrubs with firefly dances

In the shadows, the kissing

And the stealing of nightly chances

Unsaid, undone, thrills, words and deeds

And maybe the guilt of not knowing

Penitent, imprisoned in cold, steady gaze,

And yet...redemption in a poem.