Midnight in Cherry Creek

R.H. DeVault

for Dawn

Come meet me then late in the evening

after the starlings have swarmed. We’ll rest

tanned feet on the sun-warmed rail to

watch the hued moon turn the black road

into silk. Let’s pull from the pack filtered

memories we light behind cupped hands.

We’ll share long draws and longer gazes,

watching with searchlight eyes, matching

cheekbones, matching defiance, the tendrils

of our storytelling as they drift upward,

sweetly diffuse with halcyon starlight captured

in that velvet-blue bowl of a sky. And here

we’ll do our best dreaming, wide awake in

quiet attendance. We fill our lungs with yesterday’s

words then exhale slowly the milky visions,

promises to our future selves, that float and disappear.