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Break out of someone else's frames here

 Driftwood
I walk alone in twilight,

wrapping ragged cloak against numbing wind,

      shivering as the wan rays of dying sun

      play feebly over the ocean; its caps ruby


      and golden, then dark and chill 

         as they fall into the sands, 

            sweeping hoary ice and driftwood

            about my feet...

A lingering cry as mists close in;

  the gull wings out of greyness to disappear

      as the sun, into the west...


      But I,

         I cannot follow into the warmth,

         I must remain and await the end of night,

         the eternal night to come...


                                              November 4, 1971

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Last updated:Saturday, 03-Jan-2015 18:12:22 PST