The sweltering breath of a summer
squall rushes east to west weaving
through Spanish moss and tender
willows that brush the earth.
discreet voices drift through the
sultry night (Is that possible?).
The storm moves out through the
western horizon, it’s breeze
fresh and clean.
Across the way a single candle casts
shadows on a strangers wall.
In it’s ghostly light a girl dances like
a wild bird to subdued sounds.
Her slender arms take the shape of
starling wings, undulating murmurings,
a melody and she alone drives the night.