Long Past Midnight

A vice in each hand

Step on to the grass

Early dew, ambiguous you

Casting shades of shadowy blue


Night seeps in to your meadow

Grass whispers underfoot

Silver shades of sinuous thought

With tenuous breath is poetry wrought


Deaf ears of trees receive their praise

Moonlight softy kisses

Smoke arising from this smoldering prose

Only in darkness, the scent of Rose


Unspoken, fractured artistry

Obscured by sweet banality

Song of Sirens in a fickle pen

Call for pages to sing again


Aw, but robin breaks the day

As dawn seeps golden, decadent

What rhyme could challenge such desire

Or stoke the longing, eastward fire?


Nothing burns like Autumn leaves

Not the dance of ink, nor spill of paint

Sculpting night with a knowing eye

Sip and puff, a withered sigh


Clouds lay bare a naked moon

And through the cracks of barren gloom

Starlight feeds your wanting breath

Exhaling with a grateful death


Those burdens of your yesteryear

How wet toes and memory hold you near

To lessons learned in a spill of night

When darkness brings a livid sight


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