Hark! The very dark of night becomes you!
Only still tremors, damp and cool
find recourse in your weather.
But yet it stirs me to dream
in fits of starlight
and blankets of snow,
while summer lives leave slowly
through the drafty windows
and settle upon the hardwood floors.
I am most myself
and in love with your touch
when a lonely dusk creeps to my door,
only hours before the clock strikes,
and I am mad and drunk
before the moon has risen from the treetops.
You are the one quiet in my soul
which may never, ever leave me.
©2014 Jessica Stephenson All Rights Reserved