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Rated: E · Poetry · Environment · #1194652
Observing a magical nighttime activity into the early morn.
"Ozark Muses"

by a sliver of veiled moonlight
outside a cabin window,
set high on Ozark bluffs,
through cold bare trees below;
ran a meandering river of tail-lights,
like lava
emptying into a dark and remote
abyss of timeless questions.

Awakened by vehicular chatter passing,
as if honking geese
were migrating into the southern night,
several single-filed semi-trucks
with bright side-lights,
made a magical entrance and exodus
in the small slumbering town.
Hypnotic carnival-like lanterns
seemed to be waving.
Perhaps a band of gypsies
in search of a suitable nighttime camp?

the partial glow of a rising white moon
followed crooked paths through wooded hills,
wandered among shivering naked trees,
witnessed an eighteen-wheeler caravan.
Modern day highwaymen,
teeming truckers
perhaps pretending to be a circus parade
as they formed their own cabaret
on an asphalt dance floor,
far beneath a curious cabin window.

Mystifying multi-colored lit processions
are designed to intrigue any viewer
with countless roving stories imagined.
The traveling night riders and writers,
bidding hearty "farewells" and "good-nights",
disappeared beyond the hazy dark horizon.

In the silent wake of late country road traffic,
now absent from a sleepy Ozark village,
could barely be heard outside the window;
nocturnal families of wooded creatures
and winter forest fairies
merrily celebrated their wee hour communion.

On the heels and wheels of the night's parade,
sprites in Nature's own storybook,
continued the ballad of mystique into dawn.
The night's notion of a mysterious gypsy caravan
became woven into a tapestry
of dance and song;
a lovely literature in tune.
Sparkly dewy lights
set a stage of different characters
who were performing soft symphonies,
humming hues, and engaging freelance frolic.

by the early peek of peach-light,
and through stands of lofty skinny trees,
a rippling ribbon of new headlights
bounce a crystal shine
onto a frosty morning window.
Like the Native lore of sun-dogs,
these crystal circles appear
brightening the sky; muses
intending a route toward hopeful endeavors
and pursuits of magical possibilities.

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