Sonnet

The silence of the evening swells to sound, As though in blindness I could see more clear, And far-off traveling cars so close hum 'round I halfway think that Far is very near. There is a fragile something forming by, A shadow of some substance that I know. I sense a step, a movement soft and slow, And then an almost breath or pausing sigh, Till calm again regains its awful hold, Replacing sound with nothing I can hear. Then through the bushes---You! outleaping bold! And Dark and Dim and Deafness disappear! Sight-blindly, now, I grab you in my arms! Loud-quietly I kiss your happy charms!