As the skies go dim
as evening begins
a soft breeze
of night fall slips across as evening calls
before the night begins.
Sitting under a solitary tree
whose branches like scrawny arms
wave back and forward
like a skeletal presence
under the moon’s reflection
in the quiet of the night.
I sit there lost in my imagination
that take the focus of spooky things.
The ghosts of the night linger
suspended in time and space
just above my head
invisible within the moonlight.
10 October 2015
Very beautiful. Nice dancing language, and good imagery. Very relatable for the reader, and gives you a feeling that you have been there before; I was the one sitting underneath that tree. I enjoyed this poem to a great degree.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
a beautiful poem, well-composed. thanks for sharing. if you find time please read some of my poems and leave your comments,