The day stands unashamed
naked in bright daylight
exposed before a glance
in color desiring
to be enjoyed, ravished
by a mad lovers gaze
her ecstatic flora.

In the night she is gone
hidden by azure black
window opening on
perpetual being.
For all her loveliness
day makes fun of my need
so flailing arms at me
whispering like the wind
in the tall grass bending
flowing river of lights
all romance and excess.

So obvious, giving all unaware
without sweet enticement
or secret desire held by another.

The night entices by a glance;
cool, posing dark questions:
Who are you darling dear,
Where are you going love?

Such is night’s sinuous hand
on my shoulder sudden
unbidden from behind
when I am all alone
after the day is done,
whispering in my ear.

---

Began in Menlo Park, California, April 2, 1984. I reworked this significantly, but the gist remains after more than 30 years.