When You Are Away
The darkness hangs beneath a fallow sky
like bodies from the gallows,
swaying in the breeze
and decaying in the moonlight,
which seeps through the night in drops,
leaving streaks across the clouds.
The hours barge in like haughty politicians,
jostling through the air
which swells thick with vapid minutes
that drivel down and drench the ground,
drawing my feet into the muck,
which accepts the intrusion with an apathetic gurgling,
a stark admission of its disinterest in the entire affair--
this swirling stream of worthless hours glistening in the tainted light.
Such is the night when you are away,
for wasted is starlight not lighting your face,
and empty are hours without your embrace.
Copyright 2008 by Dan Bach.