2nd Stanza

Dark is the night
Cold is the ground
Blind is he
Our fugitive advances through the darkness relying mainly on touch
For years his hands have only encountered lifeless objects of prison
Now with every brush of a tree
He can feel the backwoods breathing
The retraction of her bosom induces euphoria
And a sense of intimacy
That hasn’t been felt since the first time he laid down with the mother of his
son
He felt foolish for forgetting how wonderful the living feels
The night stars were a no-show up above
Just the glow of fireflies attracting their mates for the evening
The intimate hour the insect kingdom is rudely interrupted by frantic strides
of a fugitive
Silence arisis suddenly amongst the insect lovers
From his unexpected presence