…and undercurrents
I wish the night
would speak to me
there’s a wisp of white
upon the air
soft traces of dreams
passing on gentle wings
a time of tides and undercurrents
and destiny
caught between two worlds
memories are haunting me
sweet to recall
but sad with the years
sublimely the veil is dropped
the music of the night resonates
then all is silent
amongst the watching trees
and at this still and starry hour
the moon is unrevealing
and palely flowing
out the door
© Ann Bagnall
