Moonlight is my favored language It shades misty , Though cold night etches wilted boughs Raking the muddied fields-- Lean willows change into argent gold: In dripping furrows of hollowness Fragile roots and stalks Glimmer against pale weeds As tassels of orb’s voile thread Embellish autumn’s mourning grass. This is moonlight, yellowing the eve Across the stark open... In my aloneness I watch it flicker through shadow play That my essence breathes awhile -- Beams somehow speak to me about howling pain and lilting quietude; As a crescent trace draws a hint of radiance To awaken my inner poise , now ...slowly embracing the wonder of new worlds.
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