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Stars twinkle overhead

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a chorus of crickets
plays
beneath my feet

the end of summer air
surrounds
like a never ending
warm embrace

slow steps
unknowingly guide
toward one illuminated spot

there,
silver and winding
an unnamed work of art

until I give it a name:
Monsieur swan

I stand in her presence
dazed,
open,
defenses relaxed

Am I alone?
I ask

no response

I don’t know that you’re real
you don’t know
that I am

only I know
that i’m real

I​ only ​know
that i’m real

if only​ I​ am real only then
I am alone…

mesmerized by silence
as the galaxies response
my gaze wanders
to the dark

three deer freeze in their tracks, we
make eye contact
in their gleaming stare
I search again
for an answer

there is none

my hands begin to shake,
my thoughts still spiraling away…

before my vision blurs I stop
my train of thought
I am alo… NO!

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