NOCTURNAL

One bright sheet of moonlight
and a flutter of gold leaves,
a picture opened from darkness,
a torque tree trunk, gnarls of
its sinister face frowning --
a somber vision with brief
streaks seeking the eye of
the wanderer.

In this evening movement
of air, leaves are touched
by a starlit memory.
The woodpecker knocks,
playing his registry of notes,
monotonous yet full of mystery.

Night is a wild creature, filled
with countless visions, sky
turning with prophesy.
In the small hours the tree,
its leaves and branches
ghostlike, as vision fades
around it.

Shadows whisper words
among the nebulae :
the past is not finished
but speaks of other worlds
veiled in illusion.  Verticality
calls to spirit-- Oh, to be given
the gift of flight if only in a dream !