A hue of blue,
the skies dark as twilight consumes,
clouds contort and dance as the soft rolling thunder breaches the shush of rain,

A full moon--cobalt--as the sun has still not returned her love,
and still the trees cast her shadow like paint upon the canvas of crackled pavement,

Not cold, but refreshing is the rain upon my face,
my jacket shining as its leather moistens,
I look up to connect the moon’s solemn stare and espy another face;
hers,
the one who haunts me,
the one who stalks me,
or does she hunt me?