midnight muses

day-king's more patient,
wheat-hued shadow,
quiet, guards the air of time
slipping through the gilded fingers
of the whispered cricket night.
silent dusty fires
hang halcyon suspense
moons from the seeping butter glow
of the nocturnal sentinel.

she in the silver dress
dances through the butter-glow,
unaware she's all alone
(or is she? aware? or alone?),
swings her arms and
shakes her head and
flings her ankles high
and dances in the golden moon
until the fire-sky.

purple star -
steady scintillance
unwavering,
peering at me
in quiet confidence
and a precious curiosity...
do you sing?

tree,
you bear such silent certainty,
steady strength and character,
raw, resplendent grandeur,
yet suckle as a babe
upon the earth's green breast
and gaze up wond'ringly
into the starry lights.