Dawn Eve Bradley

An Echo Of Wide Night - Poem by Dawn Eve Bradley

The room is turning slowly away from the moon,
and rain is running down gilded glass,
weeping your name.

The melancholy storm is calling you,
casting shadows of gloom to the darkness,
whistling and rumbling a low lament.

How long are these dark and dreamless passages to sleep?
And when will the wounded night be still?
So restless in your absence, I move
with every tempestuous moan,
entreating entry at my window.

Poet's Notes about The Poem

Chorus of the Soul; The International library of Poetry (2000) , Waterman Press, USA

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Poem Submitted: Saturday, September 14, 2013

Poem Edited: Monday, September 16, 2013

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