She's been there
in the still and dark
where memories didn't go
in that hiding place
where the pen of night
black and cold
wrote that
love is but a scar.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgF6c0OhORpnmeJOkx-cIV6S4emWjJYLjrnKQUWNbVrO3zjURX388PsyQYgL_hV1xtYhd6XYz4vN9S60hoyXVmvoD0tHv_JDgbujF2x_yNxySNnbUf56CCrapfCyYslJiP7ynJT/s320/120406w.jpg)
Green Bayou, original watercolor
On the night of a thousand owls
bamboo tongues snake to the sky
across the ribbon of empty
a wide wink of moon sings out
future circles the drain
finding no one at home.
Wind sweeps up the absent.
pen and ink with watercolor by Sue
Tagged by a developer's ax,
moving like a celeritous tune,
black cedars slide from hillsides
beneath a graphite tinted sky.
Nothing slows the stride of time
and none can stop the wind.
digitally manipulated forest photo - sue
Night falls simply in its time
silent stars glance down
Nobody's there but spirits teem
quiet spills a song
in that secret place
Nobody's there yet spirit teems
far from city lights
far away from noise
across the lake in that hushed place
cedars brush a softened hum
tiny waves lave the shore