Charm the elements as you will,
but know that all of this is now yours:

rain and stone, the candle’s auspicious
fire, no more ominous than the wall shades
or the moon’s corona glove. See dawn
as your ally, crowning your stride in arcs
of white light, the alms of benediction.

It is the cameo on your lapel, an irenic
arm to brush the hair from your eyes
when the walls close in; thus, you may see mist
as mist, and not the breathy loss of ghosts.

RICHARD C. WILLIAMS lives in the brilliant city of New York. His poetry and short fiction are published in, or forthcoming in Oyster Boy Review, Jones Ave, Adirondack Review, Can We Have Our Ball Back, 3rd Muse, Pedestal Magazine, Recursive Angel, Little Brown Poetry, Three Candles, Red River Review, and many others. He edits the innovative literary journal Pierian Springs.