WEBVTT

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The next poem is
entitled "Night Poem."

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It is late and there is no moon.

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Alone on the bank I listened
for sounds from the dry river.

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The pulse of crickets
rises and falls.

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By starlight the sand as
the color of fresh cork.

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I breathe.

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Trees face me on the far
bank with the darkness older

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than myself.

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The stillness within.

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If I cross over there I
can rest in the foliage.

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The sky looks big enough
for a man to walk through.

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Still I cannot reach
the star growing there.

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Downriver I know the cottonwoods
wait like sudden mountains.

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My feet are already
planted in darkness.

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Why is it only the
mind will not let go?

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Somewhere an elf
owl sits crying.

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The star is dead center.

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