The last look Of the scraggly trees Scraping their black fingernails Across the wistful shingles Of the buildings The last breath of moonlight, Whispering on the curtains Shall forever slumber In my iris The last smell of sheer power, Radiating off the skyscrapers And the smell of the cigarette from the man with the Rusty […]
Poetry-Nighttime
The Sounds of the Night
The sound so beautiful Yet cold inside Cleela, Cleela, The crickets chirp. Ooo 0000 whoo whoo The owls’ almost Silent Yet shuddering sound. The cast of the Whispering wind Sends the dark Blanket The stillness The coolness of the night. Whisp win whisp win The night has come again. Morgan Harris Green, 8Madison, Wisconsin
The Answer of the Night
Your mother is calling you. It is time to go to bed. The night is calling out its cry of dark. “Come, come,” she calls to you. Again you do not answer. The clock strikes nine. The cat is rubbing at your ankles. You are silent. Your mother calls you again and again, But you […]
