Tonight It Looks Like Someone Forgot to Turn Off the Lights
Moonlight’s yellow blanket covers trees, leaves cling to branches like lovers, the grass too is losing its green. It’s my pulse that keeps me awake at an hour when even the sleepless have shut their eyes. I used to think I was a romantic. Now I know the truth. I stare out the window and hope at least the wind will stir. Or I wander to the bedroom where my children sleep and I listen to soft snores and whimpers, music enough. I know someday my heart will seize up, grabbed by an invisible fist as my father’s was that first day of winter when nothing was green and all the...
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