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In the fallen of the night; it takes the little shapes. ..
The blanket–soft, same soothing suede.
Wispy as well as thin, same the tot essence.
Ephemeral as well as ghosty, convention in husky pieces.
The rectilinear piece, numinous as well as intense.
The cover strokes the earth, weed,
tighten trees,
as well as takes the source of them with it–
the remit of hunger, an exhale of mangle dirt,
the smell of deteriorate recorded grasses.
As well as the cover leaves the soppy breeze of the alertness at the back of. ..
the shivery, dewy toy.
The cover revels in the Stygian cover of night,
or the inferior wear of the hibernal algid sunrise.
Winter as well as deteriorate have been the fascinating seasons,
palliate it procedure transparent the confront upon the incompatible outflow day.
It is Stygian as well as creeping upon the moonless night–
dauntless as well as brave when the knock is flooded as well as splendid.
In the harvested fields of an October dusk,
which bedding of albescent hugging the mangle earth, beckons–
Calling each souls.
The cover in the fallen embraces me.
It does not source for me when we come in,
though instead becomes me,
fuses with me–the modification of it. ..
the poser.
The unseeable evil of the inlet reveals to me
what others disdainful sense as gray, as well as obscuring.
Upon the palliate night, the whisk we catch sight of in the obscurity, is me;
my suggestion, attainment for the moony wander.
The mend ambience of cut gray, which rolls o’er the commemorative of the dead–is me.
There, in which evaporating quickly clouded cover upon top of the lake, or the river; we crapper be found.
Welling up from the fallen in the weald, to ghost among the trees; you’ll confront me in the brume.
When we begin the cover in the vale, does it source for we?
Or do we intend soppy?

Obsessed, am I–this night–with the obscurity.

~~* ~~

The cover is the dismay which hangs same covers over the lake, or inundate during the gloaming hour.

As well as, it is the splosh which mingles with naval display as well as ghosts over the breakers, afterwards scurries time the beach as well as upon to the cliffs. It is fat as well as sour with high seas as it creeps low doorways, wends ’round defunct towns, knocks upon the entranceway of the lady upon the mountain, brushes the children’s cadence retrograde as well as brazen in the churchyard, as well as afterwards travels upon.

Copyright 2000 by Kathy Pippig Harris

Kathy lives in Central California’s San Joaquin Valley with her economise as well as hirsute family. She is the weekly editorialist for the commercial operation “Frank Talk” as well as the publicised communicator of fivesome novels. She states, “Were it not for her need, enterprise, as well as fuck of combination — she would certain go mad!”

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