Sonnet 41 of 68 to Kelly


Sonnet 19/12/00                        DXVII

I call out your name in the night, but hear
No reply. The whispers fade, without word
And without smile. As moon grows dim, my fear
Grows stronger still: How can I be assured
When I have lost my focus on my muse?
I drift, reaching for stray lines, to pull dreams
To harbor. I have not anchor to use,
To keep from drifting in the night. It seems
Too quiet, here: I pray, but hear no voice
To bring me verse. Where is my muse, this cold
And clouded night? Is heart to have no choice
Between silence, and risk of being bold?
My words become as ice, to fall and shatter:
Without words from my muse, what does it matter?