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