not love the night filled with silvery
moon, glittering star, streaking comet, and,
above stands of trees, an owl ghosting.
No one knows my midnight mind who does
not see, hear, or feel wind, rain, mountain,
stream, river, and ocean populating
the dreams which flow from night into day.
No one knows me who has listened
to tales of distant plateaus, dolphin and whale,
wolf and bear, stately redwood and fir stretching
to the horizon, and not imagined a life of travel.
No one can understand, whose heart is entwined in
the daily minutiae of the life of man, why I am as I am.
Michael L. Newell's latest book of poems is Don't Fret: Jazz Poems.
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