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Hi, Max, I find myself wanting this poem to begin with "It was the light . . ." (fifth stanza) and then going forward. Eliminating the first four. So much to like in this poem. Sheila On Tue, Apr 9, 2013 at 4:52 PM, Max Richards <[log in to unmask]> wrote: > Autumn Night > > At an uncertain > well-past-midnight hour, > body stirred, person > > in it, of long > association, > stumbled from > > warm bed and carpet > to cool-under-foot > tiles of a moist bathroom. > > Face, avoid the mirror. > Feet, shamble > past the window. > > It was the light > from the night sky, > lacking moon, > > lacking cloud, > lacking wind, > gentle, steady, > > circumambient - > foreshadowing > lawn-wide dew > > or a first frost, > that redeemed > the occasion. > > Out there, down there, > morning would show > more new mushrooms > > sturdy of stalk, > fragile of canopy, > keeping old promises > > made last year, > as the earth turned - > shyly pleased to be seen. >