evening poem #2, September 25, 2016



Does the sound of the brook

Alter after dark?


If we would venture into those deep woods

Where the stream rushes

After sunlight is gone

There would be no brilliant sheen

On that clear surface


Would it rush on?

Would its music change

To some minor key?


Does it rest

And pay some tribute

To the silence and darkness

Or are its eyes like those of some cat

And its night sound

That of the freest laughter?

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