Drifters

While all the world laid fast asleep
Beneath a purple awning
And midnight clouds like silver sheep
Wait softly for the dawning
No one saw us as we crept
Beneath the wind-tossed willow
While common folk and sages slept
We chose a greener pillow
Where starry woods in summer bloom
Were the sole eyes to see
Two drifters ‘neath a June full moon
And wordless poetry

All Rights Reserved
Janet Martin