Sadness

Still and solemn stars assemble

     coaxed from daylight,

a lighted altar

     in unfirm firmament

to preside over shadows stretching
     to capture young flowers

          blushing of  whispered love.

The young, and poets

     have lingered here before

          staid in the knowledge

               these glories soon will be no more.

Lingering and sad, I sigh

     at thoughts of spirit born to shine

a watcher of night skies

those thoughts of joy and love

     come back again no more to me

          returning as did the dove

               naught in its beak, empty.