Pictures in the Moonlight

Rain mists onto a moonlit asphalt path
twisting through silhouetted trunks
as through an entrance to nether worlds
trees stand guard like sentinel monks

A sheen of precipitation spreads
across the blacktop easement
it makes a mirage in which I see
figures becoming dimly nascent

Luna gives only reflected light
perhaps that is why the images
whelm up from deep inside me
though blurred around the edges

my wife, our children, my parents
with my mother’s worried chiding
my father’s constant brooding smile
- my death - that long fall abiding

Fog obscures path ahead cloaking
constant mystery as to what lurks
beyond the next bend - such is life
but always rely on whatever works

Things of the past are gone beyond
what is to be may escape the morrow
images in a film are ghosts in form
splashing through breaks the tableau