I Hope You Like the Night Because There Will Be a Lot More of Them Now
The shifting light on your face
flees into the night
as the sun is falling from
these sodden skies.
And with a trail of steam and smoke
it's streaking down and scorching ground
with its last vestige of light.
The glimmer in your darkened eyes
lies like broken glass.
What was it you hoped to find
wrapped within a trance?
The misty light falls
like ashes to the ground.
And in the rising fog
The shadows of the fall
creep across the ground.
And in the twining fog,
The wind in the trees sings an elegy
with stars in somber repose.
But your eyes don't mourn the light,
dark curtains have been closed.
Copyright 2012 by Dan Bach.