Night

Over the silent park the low mist hangs;

Blue and smoky shadow maps carved in relief.

Distant silver giants glimpsed through leaves

Glare across the distance.

Brush away the fog and bare the bones;

Chill fingers writing in the sky,

Stark words, bleak prose.

Step back into the small hours and give in.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s