Watching me
With your complicated stares…
Peer through windows
In this quiet house—
Go ahead, stare
You are rude.
Even the wind goes
Round about through woods
And will not disturb
This quiet hour
When I lie awake
And dream of us.
I can taste your tears
On the wind some nights,
But not now in this still room.
The pale moon
Illumines a field of clouds
And owls are haunting
A distant hill
Their calls soft
As April rain,
And coyotes
Absent from the fields again.
No, the theme tonight
Is silence and peace,
No waterfall roar
Of wind in trees;
Only the moon
In bright night clouds...
And your pale ghost
Haunting my thoughts.