Light pale face of day
Yet moon shadows still stalk,
As Ghosts, walking silver beams in memory.
Hang silent now, you being of a moment.
To listen, ‘tis just respect to hear,
The voice of walls,
Or soft patter of foot/handprints,
Printed long before the print of their times,
Touched your own.
Be still now; ‘tis just respect to perceive,
How one molecule of existence,
Can [...]
