I might
Not have magic—
Here— in this place, but this
Is not every place— its not the
Whole world— it’s your corner
So relegate
My gold
To rust
I’ll keep walking—
A little less sparkle
In my steps— the faintest hint of
A stumble in my steps.
I live more in
A night
Than you
Do in life times—
I have my own magic
Here— and everywhere I choose to
Go— the wind is my call
The rain my name
The moon
Kindred
A lost sister—
Who even now calls out,
Saying, your soul holds all the spark
Of a thousand tempest
Storms, so sparkle
Child of

The night.