The draining of a vast lung
in a cavernous mausoleum
at 2am. Or do I hear
the dark-embedded engine
of the slow-grinding globe,
or something alone, in pain,
that enters the brain through the ears
and cannot leave? O temptress Sleep,
your embrace would set it free.
I love the night.
It’s what you can’t see.
It’s what you don’t know. Continue reading “I Love the Night”
The robin can sing, alright.
He outstares the stars
and fires his songs at them, Continue reading “Robin under the Lamppost”
I wandered through the Garden of the Night
In search of where the Sun had lost its light Continue reading “The Garden of the Night”
A forest at night
dripping with breezes.
Quiet conversations of animals
in dead-leaf tongues Continue reading “A Forest at Night”