divine mischief, the art of nancy knowles

At Dusk, the Cold Front

Out of the great nothing
something

You, lighters of lanterns
wait

The stars will illumine your way


They wait for the dark
steady

They watch the winds
swirl

Meanwhile the door
percusses

Asleep the puppy
groans

Out there the bell, old now
clinks


Will the stars fathom my words?
And I their winks?

All around, the forest
roars


copyright Nancy B. Knowles 2006