Twas after midnight before I stirred,
But in my mind a question whirred,
Would I taste of quiet streams,
Moonlight dreams,
Hidden things?

For in this land of coziness
Where all is calm and quiet rest
Is a thought of peaceful sighs,
Whispered cries,
Answered “whys?”

Tis where death and sorrow lay
To disappear with the coming day
When a burdened heart is freed,
Wounds bleed,
Planted seed.

November 8, 1986


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