Tuesday, September 30, 2008

Thoughts On A Western Night

In this cool-flagged back room,

Standing at night before an open window,

I am suddenly seized by the wild impulse

To run bare-skinned through the rain;

My lamp shines out

Past the bright path of wet stones

Glistening in the dark,

And I lean out

Feeling the warm rain on my shoulders;

This night is made for escape,

Running free in the damp sand valley below