At night-
When the house stills-

I scratch words.

Welling up
From a deep stillness

My
Soul
Soaks
Quiet.

In Bright Light
Yet
The darkness of this night
Seems to cloak

And the hum of fans cushion

Movement of air is
Everywhere

Against feet,
Wisping tendrils of hair,

And the night creatures sound
I listen.
Listen.

As doors are held
Flung
Open
Wide
to
Mountain Air.