| Nightsong
Posted: 3/31/2008 1:50:13 PM | Nightsong
by Kevin Ranville
The night sang me a song,
a deep, beautiful ballad
it oozed over me in the cold darkness:
warm, sweet honey on my skin...
It cut me deep and made me cry,
bandaging me with bedsheets.
Still singing in the cold darkness,
kissing the wounds it made.
Too sad, too sweet, too soon,
sunrise silenced that sweet song;
it faded as the darkness fled,
scared off by morning’s roaring light.
The cold, dark night came back again,
and again, and again, and again
but the music never returned
The sad, sweet song is gone.
Now the night tells me jokes instead,
many pointless, cruel jokes
whose punchlines I’ve forgotten,
the humour subtly mocking me.
And shovels full of cold dark night
slowly cover up that memory
(...honey on my skin, in the cold, dark night,
warm, sweet honey on my skin...) | |
|
Home
login 