Friday, 14 September 2018

The Owl Hours

Are you 'up with the larks' or are you a night owl ?
A poem about staring into the night -

The Owl Hours
Ceasefire ends the restless day,
darkness descends, the blanket thickening
softening everything, impermanently.

The moon keeps a respectful distance,
after the all-pervading sun.
while the impatient world is sleeping,
dreaming of trouble tomorrow.

The calming dark.
the friendly night,
the gentle hum of the distance,
few hours of peace,
unhurried  reflection.

Every noise hushed by its maker,
every light dimmed by its isolation,
every thought allowed to stretch and contract and settle,
Every breath at peace,
Contemplating infinity, eternity, immortality

Memories emerge, holding hands,
They dance and sing, and wander off safe into the night.

And I will join them,
once I give in,
and close my eyes


A simple poem of remembrance.

That’s the last photo,
close the album shut,
. . last meal we shared
. . last message between us
. . last song you heard
. . was the last song we heard together

Nothing more,
no more never befores
never again,

the well is dry,
the leaves have fallen,
the stars are out,
the book is closed.