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by Beth Pauli
running my fingers
through the thick black
of night
I closed my arms and
embraced my solitude.

I felt the pulse of my
nocturnal heart grow
stronger with each deep
drink of the tender
liquid air.

my knees found comfort
in the wet grass: my
arms reached up toward
the vast sea of
dancing novas.

a sharp gust of
night wind stole
my soul from my
person and placed it
in the midnight air.

I had a conversation
with the man in the moon.

soaked through flesh and
bone with a euphoric
I am in love with
this sweet night storm.

sharp angles of light
cut across the black;
fierce clashes of thunder
shake the earth:
and I dance with myself

basking in the midst of it all.

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Copyright © 1997 by Beth Pauli. All rights reserved.