On needled path, mid dark and quiet dell,
Walking gently as upon night's darkness fell,
The evening breeze rose, whispering, chanting through the trees,
Through shimmering pines, in muted repartees,
As light of heaven's stars fell upon life's isolation,
Reflections of loneliness, of silent desolation.
Into the brush a rabbit steals, moving thither,
Under cover, as darkness calls me hither,
Crossing through the gates temarious,
Walking swiftly into the night precarious.
[This message has been edited by Mike (edited 06-06-2000).]