The trees tried to trip the group
but our dim lights were enough to see
the obstacles all through.

At the opening to the lake,
I crossed the threshhold into freedom's hands;
took you with me at half past eight.

We walked the rocky pier all the way down,
tore the dryness from our feet in waves.
My arms slid around your waist to hold you,
strength a million times stronger
when I hold such precious things.

And on the way back to the shore,
at my back, you were a shadow,
and, at a distance, you were gone.

As you walked my way, my dear,
I felt the ebb of fear in you.
Your shadow then became a face,
and one that gave me peace.

You rolled in like a morning mist
or night fog, or a desert twister,
a cloud of warmth surrounding you,
and on its edge: my laughter.

So many kisses on that night,
so many arms holding so tight,
and everything, and everything,
and everything so right.