Trilogy Two  
Reflections of Poe                            

She walked the ridges                                    
              without me…                        
sang songs of the night                                    
Only the moon                        
bright and full                                    
              saw her.                          

Her bare feet                                    
long mossy rocks                        
as she hummed with the wind.                          

Below her                                    
              still water                                    
              deep and cold                        
lay waiting.                        
No frothing tides                                    
              called her                        

no crashing waves                                    
              drew her                        
only the quiet of the night                        
and the glow of the moon.                          

I, in my sleep                                    
              … dreamed                        
dreamed of warm days                        
in the salty current                        
of a faraway shore                          

And, when morning came                        
a blanket of snow                        
covered the hills.  

Tony Sexton