night

she walks
after the light
has faded
in a long dress
blue-black
in satin

decorated
with the stars

she wanders
no direction
all directions
here and there

everywhere

flowing over
all around
and moving on

all the time
she is moving on

sometimes
a golden moon
will lighten the way
casting over all
a glimmer
of warm

sometimes
there is nothing
to disturb the blue
in the black

perhaps
the stars as she walks

from behind her veil
she watches me

within her cloak
she may hide me
if I need that

when I need that

and I feel her then
in a shiver of spine
and know
she is come

she watches me

~

Poem #531 from a series of poems drawn from the imagination and collected as: a Bachelard reverie.