10-31-2010, 06:37 PM
Night soothes the hamlet with its dark caress;
each chimney's plume a swirling rope of grey,
mount winds unseen to light a starry dress
and leave behind the day.
High up they spread, while always breaking rank;
to swarm and swirl, they seem reduced to play
beneath Orion's belt on girded flank
and say farewell to day.
Only in smoke and starlight can I see,
abound from hearths and hearts and bricks of clay;
sent forth from corded wood stacked in the lee.
The march from night to day