Twilight ere the moon has risen.
The magic hour twixt night and day.
Frees night creatures from their prison.
Releases them to play or prey.
Sometimes the shadows coalesce
and assume solidity.
Which may frighten or impress.
They come and go mysteriously.
We can’t be sure that what we see
are harmless shadows out to play.
They could be conceivably.
Night predators hunting for prey.
Though we may pretend otherwise
We pray for Mother Moon to rise.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem