Invisible as a thought
   as concrete as a dream,
words or whispers
precipitous through the night
              are rarely as they seem.

Humbled by gentle presence
felt, but never there. Moments
         of the indeterminate past
     are oftentimes less than fair.

     Darkness hastens wonder,
impending daylight not often clear,
        holding back the dawn
     are we holding back our fears?
                                                      j.g.l.