Firelight to walk by,
moonlight to be shy by.
Burn, burn in the daylight.
Wind at twilight,
is barbed, and biting.
Skin is cracking,
at grandfather's clocks ticking.
Creeping shadows are bending,
with aged back.
Stiff cane are sturdy like
the mountain trees, they come from.
Starling eyes gaze into
the grandfather's bronze arms.
Into the twelve held close.
The grandfathers time is light. (10-10-09)
