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| bobbi sinha morey |  | 1. Night Wind Music Soft like a half whispered prayer the first frost of October dusts the leaves and soon I see you again, the night wind music around you wakening my quiet instrument, stirring me from my dreams, the silver thoughts between us petals in an envelope opening up. Let the surface of my skin smell like your musk. If I had the words I wouldn't thank you with a gift. I would take you to the willow where all is still and the evening is sable with no starlight to find us. Sweet grass is there to touch and when sleep comes we let it caress us. | |
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