What Whispers in the Hush of Autumn Dusk
What whispers in the hush of autumn dusk
Beneath a blazing moon, insinuates
That I have walked this teeming path before?
What murmurs in the scented, smokey breeze,
Cajoles with cricket's chirp, mosquito's whine?
What longs for me? It beckons me to close
Forever weary depths behind my eyes,
To float no deeper than the surface of
My skin, to sip each taste anew and breathe
But once the fragrance of the evening air.
--May 16, 1979