Because I knew the truth,
the world lay open to me,
strange as it all seemed.
The evening was aglow, I remember,
with possibilities;
the trees had lost their leaves
just as I was gaining mine,
and the etchings in the fading sky
were dissipating like distant smoke.
But even in our clearest moments,
we see ourselves like
shadows on reflections;
the colors of our joys and
attendant griefs, swirling around,
passing into the dim like
shadows on the lake
