Old friend Midnight visits me again
I love his low light
and familiar quiet
the clock and I not conversing,
not at odds
savoring the wordless company
of two well acquainted companions

The contented work of creative hands
goes on this night as ever
but tonight my head is occupied
with thoughts that circle back to you
 I form my inner pictures
 photos of a face unseen
seeing you clearly
through the lens of your spoken thoughts
through the mirror of our conversations
through the music of your voice
Tomorrow is today
but still comes not soon enough
impatient, I wait not so much to see you
as to be with you
I have a sharp and cultivated view
of that which I know
and that which I do not
of that which is familiar
and that which is completely foreign
Recognition comes before the words
to say what is recognized
but I know this:
you are as familiar a friend
as old Midnight