Beneath starlight, a red ember;
I think about the past.
How life’s events roll slowly forward
And leave the present last.
I’m standing as their stems emerge
From soil too long staid;
They grow like weeds and flowers in
My yard of moonlight shade.
My memories, invasive plants,
Consume my empty chair.
Deny me any desperate rest
Without your presence there.
Recalling wandering memories,
Adventures conscience free,
Reminds of souls without purpose,
A soul that still is me.
Bring back the rocky quarry edge,
The late night New York trains,
The tunnel underneath the street,
And muscles sore and strained.
Bring back the open, solemn night
That beckons, calls, persuades,
Our longing hearts to mischief hid
In midnight’s dark cascades.
Bring back freedom from anxious fear,
Do that or leave me be.
For even though my heart feels still,
It still beats to be free.
Beneath starlight, a red ember
Goes out among the weeds.
I close the door on moonlight and
My distant memories.