Where does the night flee to,
When the sun appears?
As she leaves behind the morning dew,
Like so many bitter tears.
I wonder where she spends her days,
To get a full days rest.
Until the sun's last golden rays,
In the twilight lose their zest.
Where does the night flee to,
After a job well done?
And do you ever stop to wonder who,
Tells her of the coming sun?
11/20/10 Alton Texas
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Good poem, good write. Your pen is working overtime my friend. I enjoyed it immensely.