A Forest By The River

November mist wraps a wet blanket as I walk the falling day's labyrinth beneath neuronic trees of a waking forest along a river dying in hyacinth! the boatman sings a home going song floats happy at the end of the ride the river is narrow a few furlong and his home is on the other side! oil lamps flicker from the bank huts winds carry their laughter and cries grow darker tree barks as darkness shuts all but the sky's heavy sighs! I hasten to escape this melancholic gloam an alien in this forbidding night the boatman must have reached his home and the river is lulled in starlight!