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Night Flyer Jul 2015
Of distant dreams that call in the silence of dusk,
Their resonance in tropic humidity
Calling to me through the jacaranda and palm
past the swirling spanish moss
Their melodies resounding like bells in the lilac evening
And the chorus of crickets that drifts out to a harvest moon sky
O distant dreams that calm my sadness
and wrap me in their warmth
on passing ocean breezes,
Meander through stirring branches of twilight forests
to greet my Summer desolation,
sweeping me to your fabled lands,
beyond evening's gateways.
A poem I wrote while viewing a sunset in Florida.

— The End —