Nick Seeger

I hold you close
in the breathless silence
of unknowing

The whole opens from the centre
ground giving way
to figures
dark and shrouded

Quietude
is no suitable response
to the pained chants
of the oppressed

Fog rising on the lake
drifting in eddies and whorls
breaking with the light of day
amid the distant call of the loon

Not yet awakened
the waves roll placidly
as tousled sheets
against the body

A twilight veil
of velvet sfumato
rises with the dawn