Night Owls


“Good night,” they say to one another;                             

Two love birds postpone a return                      

To which the dark takes to cover,

Where all transposed lack concern.                                        


Shrouded by sky’s invisible cloak;                                         

The veil of a winged rodent                                                        

On a path unknown and uncertain,

For the night is good at its game:


Teasing the blind and tricking the lame

In knowing what is uncertain.

A wish to draw back the curtain;

A loss equal in victory’s wake.


Speak of wake! Take on time!

With clad fist around silver dime.

Erroneous hands at ten and two

Where time has stopped and made a fool of you.


Ever so close to heaven’s blazes

Alluring, transfixed stares in the dark

Across lonely, dim corners, small stages;

Beacons of hope, nothing less than stark.


Gravel-filled bricks lay at rest

As Past whispers silence spent

From eerie fields of those kept

Six feet under; to the night they lent.


Auspicious winds mutter sounds

Of thy own accord, in ears found

By Amazing Grace — !

You could not be found…


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