night poem, April 26, 2015

I don’t want to go home before dark.

The best hour is in twilight when the air cools enough

To thrill your skin

And awaken all that the warmth of the sun has lulled

I remember summer afternoons lying on the grass

Under some tree, listless

But the evening breeze was oxygen

Like a siren

That called me up

And set me running for the woods

Diving into the shallow darkness

Breaking with convention and

Feeling the urgency of the return of night

 

 

copyright 2015

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