By Luis G. Dato
Your unseen fingers of the night have spun
Auroral flowers that surprise,
Clouds petalled red against the sun,
And scarlet with sunrise.
Last night a terror crept within my heart
With every gust of sudden rain,
Torn, tousled boughs were slapped athwart
My slumbered window-pane.
Perhaps your fingers splashing on the void,
Were frantic with the nearing dawn,
By turns alarmed and overjoyed
At frescoes partly drawn.
Were you afraid lest daylight found your art
A chaos of the cosmic dyes?
Did terror creep within my heart,
Last night before sunrise?