Midnight Blue
When the full moon rises over the hill
long shadows retreat and become still
My yard turns into a midnight blue
under winters powdered residue
In the twisted roots that look like knees
all curled up like limbs of trees
light reflects in streaks of white
that fill my grateful eyes tonight
Dreams tend to bloom in this semi-darkness
far from blinding openness
they seem to love the gray of light
that wandering ghosts offer at night
specters not concerned with giving fright
They only seek the graveyard of the city
where the lack of color looks pretty
I wish there where fireflies tonight
sparkling in their own light
urging old ghosts to leave the night
and let imagination squeeze reality tight
relish the awe of midnight blue
where stillness sticks like glue
while covered in virgin snow
under a full moon aglow
Some vivid dreams silently created
matter most when midnight dictated
their meaning sustained in essence
by broken and bleached fences
where yellow becomes white
under the midnight light
Blue-green hedgerows in the distance
cast shadows unlike yellow fences
as towering trees announce with lusty voices
the passing of ignored choices
The chilled midnight blue of my yard
stands fixed in the minds eye
and I imagine ghosts in flight
Fleeing towards city lights
