04 Nov


In the silence of a midnight,
a cloud rolls o’er the moors;
the fog of an Autumn dusk,
as a sleeping giant’s breath,
poured forth from his nostrils
in uneven streams and gusts,
to fill wide and empty hollows;
e’er drifting far in its gloaming
o’er the open meadow beyond,
and then lie in hungered wait
for the slightest breeze of night
to stir the wicked, cold breath
into opaque swirls of umbra;
and in the silence of the haze,
only vaguest shadows cry out.


Posted by on November 4, 2015 in My Poetry



2 responses to “Midnight

  1. Heartafire

    November 4, 2015 at 1:33 pm

    Such a lovely poem and perfect image!

    Liked by 1 person


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