On the horizon, a beryl gemstone
caught fire, passionate eye reflecting light
along the stretching river’s blue-gray bone.
Photographer’s eye framing love’s brief sight
of her sister gazing out at dawn’s gaze,
seated on mountain’s chiseled crest (Blue Nile
gray moonstone, to me), clothed to halt sharp glaze
of morning frost from scraping skin. We file
such precious meditations in film’s eye,
but also deep in our hearts. Carry them
like rare gemstones to admire when lonely,
bring light to ward off hardened winter’s grim
rebuke—smile in irony, toss the blues,
cherish foreground view of her sister’s shoes.
Roger Armbrust
November 25, 2014
