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

Gravitas

For every poem I put here, there are four more never shared, around six never written and twenty-seven partially thought out. For every word...