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Night Story

Lee Harwood

The house is quiet       empty

Nervously I await your coming - or not coming? -

through this night


A mystery - not taken for granted


Like a folk story   a children’s story

“Over the hills at night she came

through the dark through the storm

past the crashing shore

along the wind-battered cliffs”


but real


Sometimes the words don’t come

There are no words for such times    this


the house is neat for your arrival


our kiss and touching

beyond words


From The Yellow Crane No 10 (Summer 1997)