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(``The deep shade gathers night....'' - Theodore Roethke)

As you walk, the shadow of a bird

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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.

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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!