Night Walk

In night I walk the quiet paths.

The busy sounds of day are gone,

And no one walks the darkened ways.

My feet -- swift shadows of no thought --

Follow the trails without mistake.

I know the silence and the dark:

Young birds asleep, the leaves quiet

As misted breezes sweetly brush

The trees.  Night lets the creatures hide

In corners, soothes a sun-scorched skin

With cool and gentle black-fingers.

I am a creature loved by night.

The dawn finds me a dark stranger.

                                - Lamar Review, 1964