The howl of the night
Wakes me from my dreams
To gaze out the windows
At twinkling moonbeams
Landing on branches
Then disappearing at second glances
Like mystic things seen in the east
They’re swallowed up by night and beast
Yet on still running streams
There is still seen moonbeams
Riding on the crest of waves
Bobbing like grass in the everglades
Until dawn breaks
When once more they disappear
Never to return at all
Until the next moon fall
(date written unknown)
The surrealism and the predictability of life finely, engagingly portrayed. t x
I love this one David... it seems to flow along...10 my friend...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
This brought a smile to me. Beautiful.