Gordon Dean Schlundt (Mattoon, Illinois)
Arriving silent, scarcely noticed.
It swoops with ebony wings
Upon the towns and villages;
It dominates the countryside,
Darkly shrouds the city, too.
Except the strip, where blazing neon
And fearless, gloating streetlamps
Hold it back just far enough;
It is the night.
Settled now, it reigns as King,
Ruling over factories and homes,
Wharfs and sullen alleys,
Vacant lots and harbor mists.
It is darkest in the cemetery.
Night is a monster,
Fearing nothing, save Sunrise.
Comments about this poem (Night by Gordon Dean Schlundt )
Top 500 Poems
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
William Ernest Henley
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings