I am ready to fall back to that arrangement of the hours
wherein night is lengthened. Those exquisite twilit moments
of long, stark shadows transform
into a scissors-cut paper
silhouette. Memories of childhood's heyday -
when staying up late meant
well past seven with cocoa,
apples dipped in honey,
Badger, black-hearted pirates
and the quiet singing of
``Now the day is over...''
let it go wasting away? -
invade the darkening room.
Oh delicate, strengthening
maple-flame evenings. My pilgrim soul cheers on,