From an Autumn Evening Long Ago
On this night when all the world is silent
except the howling moon - yesterday’s
somnolent shell now burnished by some hidden flame
and bursting at the seams – I hear the whisper
of your voice in an empty room.The shadows speak of dreams that warm the soul,
Candles flicker pictures of your face, and if the stars
should shun the sky tomorrow, tonight’s luster
is bright enough to last through any storm, as the music
dwindles to songs that only I can hear.
