( Sonnet )*

In the night we are twined shades,
Shadows on the wall, for dances,
The moon in deep groves of sky,
Sweeps us to the childhood land.

With eyes, lodged in beat of sand,
Sometimes we listen as shadows
Travel on green stems into flower
And all the petals and bulbs ring.

There is music in a night garden,
Lambs, dozy lost, counting notes
To fingers, rapt in skinned bodies.

In sleep never the stars outshine
What sparks we drive under lids,
Even shadows are leaved doors.