The nDmight sets softly
With the hush of falling lFe-e-eDmaves
On the houses through the tCrees
And the lDmight from a street lamp
Paints a pattern on my wFa-a-aDmll
Like the pieces of a pCuzzle
Or a cBbhild's C uneven sDmcrawl
Up a nDmarrow flight of stairs
In a narrow little rFo-o-oDmom
In the early evening gCloom.
ImpDmaled on my wall
My eyes can dimly sFe-e-eDm
The pattern of my lCife
And the pBbuzzle Cthat is mDme.
From the mDmoment of my birth
To the instant of my dFe-e-eDmath
Just as I must breathe each bCreath.
Like a rDmat in a maze
The path before me lFi-i-iDmes
And the pattern never aClters
UntBbil tChe rat diDmes.
And the pDmattern still remains
On the wall where darkness fFe-e-eDmll
For in darknesss I must dCwell.
Like the cDmolor of my skin
Or the day that I grow oF-o-o-oDmld
My life is made of PCatterns
That can sBbcarcely Cbe contDmrolled.