Saffron Eye
Thomas Wolff

The moon rises overhead
- A saffron eye
  looking down at me
  through the thin
  October air

It sees everything
- Unblinking -
  as it glides
  across the sky
  without challenge

As I look upon it
- Thin fingers of sulfur
  stretch into the heavens above
  and a dream is born
  in the quiet of the night

A lonesome howl in the distance
- Betrays the silence
  and I watch the hills
  in earnest
  for the break of dawn

Copyright © 1998 Thomas Wolff
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