midnight whims

forever rushed

come follow me!

have you let go
without us  
noticing

without
noticing
us?

the stillness
of nights

above evergreens
atop a cranberry bush
a cedar or pine
broken apart
into
an eternal stream
of consciousness,
mine!

how
green
how eternal
she
was

and
when she comes back
-- we will again have and
be held

but with such dry air
are we able to
wait?

when she does come
it will be
an
undivided,
  winged,
     victory.