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In Passing

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The night, a ruling haughty queen,
A beauty in the moon's proud light,
All shine like platinum pristine,
A finely furrowed thorough sight,
So full of sound and full of life,
Too full of fight and full of strife,
With trout straight jumping shore to shore,
A wolf in skulk forevermore,
From haunting wood to grassy field,
With dark intruders all around,
Without a haven to be found,
Which to no secret prying yields,
Is oddly, truly still at last.
A traveler came and with it passed.



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