Article Tag: Poetry-Nighttime

Stone Soup Magazine
June 2019

By Anya Geist

  The cicadas chirp a lullaby to the night. Their buzzing seems obtrusive at first But grows to be comforting and content. Inside, the tiled floor sits cold...

  The crickets chirp, sing to the starry night. The floorboards creak and moan of old age. The wallpaper stands rigid, but cracked and peeling. The motorcycles...

    The stars stood gleaming Like sequins On a black cloth The moon came to rest On the surface Of a pond The grass swayed From side to side Like a rocking...

  Night is dark and mysterious. Every soul is asleep. Even the tiny baby birds don’t make a sound for we know the moon is quite big its falling, glowing gaze...

The moon ate my heart. My vision was tainted. I staggered forward, uncertain. I heard something disappear. I think— I am myself. I taste the hole in my...

The moon The little moon The lonely uncolorful moon The only friend of earth The moon of its only kind There the moon stand by her only little self The...

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 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...

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...

The moon A candle in the darkness The sun of the night. For the passing traveler it is a guide For the sleeper a comforting watcher The guardian of the...