NIGHTBIRD

~ THE FOREST ~
Last glimmers of the day,
First whispers of the dark,
The ceremonial of the night has begun
Nightbird soars,
     And lands in a clearing
     To lead the ball.

~ THE CITY ~
When, in the middle of the night
His Soul wanders,
Damp and wet deserted city streets
Seems to be the place where
     He goes to err.

~ THE ISLAND ~
And when the night comes to an end,
     Like an Indian birdman on a sandy beach
Nightbird whirls, along with the drums
     Then he disappears,
     With grace.


:: drawing by Jean Michel Folon