In the quiet wings of night
Ear pasted to the thoughts of dawn
I hear cats making love
Moaning from the night’s veiled windows.
 
The couples are knitting the silence 
With the pregnant quiet of loving
While we take their pleasure 
With tablespoons of insomnia.
 
I watch over the peace of myself, 
I, the pilgrim in the narrow path to rescue
There is light and love here 
Despite the avalanche of scarecrows.