I want the jagged forest line
Against the setting sun;
The smear of black across the sky
Where night had just begun.

I miss the way the silhouettes
Of Trees did frame that sky,
The inky way it scrawled across
The blue in craggy lines.

I want the silver moonlight tipping
The horizon-line
To glaze the earth in black and white
And cloak the looming pines.

I miss the sprawling milky way
That luminescent stream
That cut across the onyx sky
Within the starry sea.