Today's poem is by W. Nick Hill
Weather in the night
Blows under stars.
Neglected hours of darkness
Never tire because there's rest
A shy hope that will come in handy.
Weather forecasts at night,
Necessary for night workers
Who travel out of their domains
Toward others and need to know
If it's going to slick under their feet
As they cross garlanded bridges
That belly up toward Venus;
For all who avoid the light of day,
Play on their fingers
Webs of restraint, cat's cradles
Of concern for the fate of the aurora.
Night, a cave under boulders
of quotidian tares, skeins
of obligation (root wads in daylight).
Night goes over and under
Then out, skipping like a youngster
Before it's too late and light devours it
With its big teeth.
Copyright © 2016 W. Nick Hill All rights reserved
from Blue Nocturne
Dos Madres Press
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission
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