Nighttime Presence Poem by Keith Parsons

Scurried sounds of coming morn’
Crickets call and crickets warn
Nestled leaves come to rest
Imaginary mourning

And then the day, faded in
Subtle hues- airy wind
Scarlet sun- a steamy floe
Listen to the calling

But here she is once again
Her blanket hides- colors blend
Tendrils reach to daytime’s edge
Hurry in dark magic

Adversary- lost again
Darkness drizzles- dripping in
Swimming in the nighttime dew
We always feel her presence