Nightbook Page
I stepped ashore one May night
into a chilly moonlight
where grass and flowers were gray
but their scent green.
I drifted up a slope
in the colorblind dark
while white stones
signaled back to the moon.
A time span
several minutes long
fifty-eight years wide.
And behind me
beyond the lead-shimmering waters
was the other coast
and those in command.
People with a future
instead of faces. 