(``The deep shade gathers night....'' - Theodore Roethke)
As you walk, the shadow of a bird
finds your face; without complaint, the grass
softens beneath your feet.... There is no word
to touch the ocher of your loneliness.
At home you watch hopes flame upon the hearth
when you are gone, I search the embers' glow....
The night-blooming jasmine hides its worth;
I feel the dark between your fingers flow.
Missing you, I've come to learn the ways
in which the wind moves young leaves out of hurt.
Something I dream: It is a cup of days -
a morning song in which you're strangely caught!