Fidelity

Fidelity 

These days are not grey 
as I will remember. 
Days of low fresco skies
watercolor apples
bruised
life, still life. 

These nights not empty 
as I will remember
of silver moons
cinnamon leaf-light. 

So much depends on forgetting.
But one promise 
I will remember 
every day 
each jewel of light 
grinds down to cool darkness.