Twilight, great friend of mine, catching my eye
and whisking me off in the trees to the edge
of the world in a glance; a sweep of sky
that takes me back to childhood, and I pledge
that innocence, the trees my lost companions
delighted at my stay, their inky tussle
drawing my thoughts darkening there like chameleons;
till I depart, the symphony a rustle
continuing, and I in the light again,
happy to be me, sometimes wondering
how it has come to pass that I remain
to tell the story, like some Ishmael bring
its past to the present, and in the stunned
anti-climax find myself still around. |