Friday, July 11, 2025

Nightfall

 



Woken from a deep slumber,

as if my name was spoken

aloud.

Only the spotlight of a honeyed full moon

sings across my shadowed walls.

Heart racing,

as through free falling,

plummeting off of a craggy cliff-face

and remembering 

just now, that the safety net

was only a dream. 



Painting by Tivadar Csontváry Kosztka, 'Full Moon over Taormina' c. 1901 in Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons.

No comments:

Post a Comment

Lip sticks and stones

The way my name  sits in your mouth, at least, you want it to. The 'a' hanging an ellipses on the sound waves. The rattling of conso...