When night sleeps late
covered in gray mist
then I turn to you

when life feels like my trouser pockets
jingling nothing but small change
then I turn to you

I remember with such clarity
those few months ago
when each day was my birthday--you were the gift

present hours limp
in slow-motion shuffling
dragging me down onto the ground
where day-dreams live and die

hollow trees stand all around
like skeletons unmoving in the wind
the day stands still without a will

others cry to blue laments
or hide their dreams
in cloaking purple darkness
lying on their dying embers

I--I lie under a willow tree
Whiling away the hours
Wishing I could turn to you
when rainbows wane to colorless and
echoes of the day expend their strains
I thirst again to turn to you