After The Tempest Poem by Muhammad Shanazar

The night encroached knocking the door,
And when the bolt unbolted, the sound mixed
Into bawl of the distant dogs.
The sun dove,
Then from behind a twig of an olive,
I began to gawk to the lake;
The laughing huddled lotus,
Were whispering to one another;
The air rounded headlong,
The night stared at the long shadow
Of the thick tall tree;
I returned to the room,
Sighs of the night, sprawled on my bed,
Mixed merged into my sensation;
And the glassy-crumbs
That escaped from hands of the night,
I collected them all,
To compose this poem.