Churlish Night

I came to resent the night

For its mystery, its beauty, its perfect peace.

While I, carrying my turmoil like a bundle of my worldly goods,

Had none of those things

And never would.

But, in the ping of the raindrops and the screech of the wind,

I saw the night’s eyes blink

And realised she’d trade in a heartbeat,

Yet had no heartbeat to trade.

Two losers caught in a forced embrace:

The churlish night … and me.

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2 thoughts on “Churlish Night

  1. Thanks for calling by Oonagh, and for liking my work. I haven’t seen you in a while. This does give me a fabulous reminder to visit you again, I’ve been remiss. This and so much of your stuff is the stuff of life. I really liked it very much. 🙂 ❤

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