In the frost sharp moonless night

the stars light the air

with a quiet and mystic brilliance

much closer than of yore

as a still quiet

blankets

the world below

Through the cold crystal dark night

a ghost drifts the grass

silent echo of a whispered flight

tree high above my eye

its soft locus

stalking

the land below

Through an ice star argent glea...

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Night.

I am transported by

a narrow orange moon

                and a million stars

                the still cool air

                the silence of the yard

I am welcomed by

a single ghostly owl swoop

                over the sheep fields

                the creak of my gate

                the scratch of my key on the lock

then

the silent click...

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Kneeling at the window as if in prayer

He looks out at the night

The surrounding trees are black shadows

Barely seen against the indigo of the sky

No stars shine tonight

But an unrisen moon lightens the air a little

With an almost imagined spectral light

Somewhere over the distant lake an owl calls

And calls again

A late moth blunders against the open window

Otherwise...

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He spoke

And then it seemed

The mist and perhaps my mind swirled round

A sickening looping helix

From that still small sphere of heat.

In the chill of a dusk we descended

Beneath a frosted sickle moon

Descended into the Stygian blackness

Of land above a still lake

From which no lunar gleam escaped

The frigid darkness was intense, solid

Consuming all my senses -

...

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