Nightfall Reverie: Poetry of Tranquil Reflections

On the way back after nightfall

The white flight of the white buck,

In the head when the night grows

Aboltabol is a myth in reverse.

Mirror city in the eye star

And rain across the sky,

Yet how gray it all is

As if everything is the creation of a cloudy mind.

A peaceful hope has blossomed

Now in the heart-sky,

Life is my sweet life

It is pure.