Noctambule

after the day has died
and the light winnows
into birdsong heat
the flight
of the indolent pale

Give us stars!
spread the thinning veil
broom the hearty wind
and dust the anvils
Let the cold come in!

shudder and stone
when the Hello’s have all
worn out
now off to their beds
these old slippers
whisper ‘cross the boards
like
forgotten dead

© Emerys Watchel, 2018 All rights reserved.

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