A Bryte Flud (A Bright Flood)

As you drift out from
The archway with a

Bright flood of sunlight
Casting your stark

Shadow down the
Stairs, each marble

Pillar stands at
Attention, the golden

Banisters blink in
Warm chandelier

Illumination like a
Thousand gloved

Hands turned softly
Upward to guide

Your descent from
Each burgundy step

To the next, you
Seem reminiscent

Of a miracle I can’t
Seem to remember

When suddenly I do
It is the same miracle

As the last time I saw
You approaching

 

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