The trees are silver in the moonlight and
The chimes sing in the wind.
It speaks a different language -- the wind.
One of breaths and sighs and longings.
It exhales cleansing caresses
With sweet release.
I dance on my toes
Feeling the patio underfoot,
Still warm from the earlier sun.
But only on the inside.
Now in my room, I remove my adornments:
Bracelets of shells and crystals on chains,
And then each piece of clothing –
Some dropping to the floor and
Others placed on hangers.
The sheets drag across the skin of my calves and
With curiosity and expectancy
I wait for dreams.