Lightness

The moonlight sang that song 
we can’t remember, invisible wings 
cascading through the valiant wind 
as the stairs insist 
on climbing up. 
Up.

Up where time remains an afterthought, 
or hangs on the moonlight 
nearly in the future. Time always comes, 
playing metronome while weightless, 
feigning lightness 
to ease the ascent.

© 2020 Phillip Knight Scott