spangled banner night comes crawling
night comes
night comes
night, slow night
tear-stained, fevered night comes creeping
in the brush backed hills

why do soft things linger slyly
taunting us
seducing us
when will they come round
to settle
on the lens, streaked loudly

mistaken terms from fading clocks
winking out
winking in
speaking rhythm glaring on
in faded washcloth blue

below, the dam is lit at night
spilling stormcloud current down
nets homespun of cheek and bone
are thrust red handed from the pines

black is burning black
embers glowing
always black
black is brightness
watchful black
tripping black of holes and curves

tilted bottle night comes swimming
night comes
night comes
clear like veins
no garb nor robe but wearing socks
night comes dancing carefully

early night is dreaming heat
to rise and rumple
tied round lips
muffled breath of glass-paned stars
night tiptoes with bovine strides

as knock-kneed night comes crutching in
clutching tight to tops of trees
stumbling down the printed streets
night limps by
a creaking, ailing, rattling night
the wind wheeze night lungs settle hair

in hazy patterns bound
to black a night emergent
shelters me


About QuietMonolith

I was just a mild mannered young man living in Portland, OR, until one day....POOF! I turned into a crazy, nefarious, thieving, drug-crazed lunatic. I had lots of therapy and spent many months in hospitals and treatment facilities. Eventually, at the end of my rope, I decided to change everything. With the support of my family and friends, I have embarked on a quest to achieve optimum wellness. I am making radical changes in every part of my life, and in the way I approach the world in which I live. Follow my blog, The Wellness Quest, to experience what happens when a desperate addict takes hold of his destiny and devotes all his time and energy toward making a full recovery. I am also a writer and poet. Follow my blog, What We Left Behind in Crowded Rooms, to take a look at some of my recent poems.
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