Soft as a sigh gently exhaled,
Luna hoists her billowing sail.
Pursuing Sol’s bright spoor until
Subsumed by horizon’s veil.
Bringing respite from the toil of day,
Heralds the hour when lovers play.
Shadows slip silently over lip and sill,
Ghosts of clouds driven where they will.
Substance adheres to imagined form,
And furtive whispers swirl anon.
Quiescent after the clamorous fray,
The pulse of human commerce sleeps.
Only those stragglers on their way
To hearth and home, or tryst to keep.
Now the time of mouse and owl.
Of feline predators on the prowl.
While over all, the gleaming globe
Covers the earth in a shining robe.
A sea of hazy shimmering light,
Where mortal dreams slide through the night.
© Bryan Knower