CYNAGUA NIGHT

I thought I heard a sock escaping from the sack,

    and the banners battle vainly with setting sun.

I thought I heard bread molding in the box

     and the open wine breathe a lonely sigh.

and believed I heard the shadow skate across the wall,

     and a bone toggle jumping from my cloak.

What sound of a smile shattered,

     or candle growing bashful in the mist?

Are those armor rusts I heard scurrying 'round,

     or cry of crystalline salt tenderizing my life?

Is that a black swan's gliding laughter

     or merely the creaking of  battled bones.

Yesterday I heard a raindrop start a mountain stream

       and a lantern stare through close shuttered eyes.

I was startled to heard a vine drop its lonely grape

       and gay mistletoe strangle a lusty oak.

Once I heard dewdrops slide down a feathered leaf,

       and an earring dance 'neath blowing brazen hair.

I thought I heard a basket count its forgotten secrets,

     and an old oil lamp praying for a book.

I dreamed I heard a dish enfold some ripened fruit,

     and your empty chair flex its curving arms.

And I heard the blanket, I imagine, sneak upon the floor,

      and secret memory call out my child's name.

but …

All I heard was your footsteps tiptoe on the grass,

and the hiss of smothered candle  

as I feigned expected sleep.

Kinjal of Moravia