Lost Horizons

She used to walk alone down dirt roads in absence of pavement and streetlights She used to wander through summer evenings, cicada symphonies nocturnal sounds of animal happenings She used to lie alone on her back, in the grass silent among the trees while scaffolds tossed new nightlights into the July sky watching a scattered sky, waiting for stars to lose their grip She could always predict where the next one would fall She used to walk alone through the midnight world of longings and wonder what happened to the expectation of horizons bright with dreams Grieving over postscripts of summer memories