These nights are brighter like butterflies
Never are they cool, nor quite either.
They go tapping and beating
in hearts and thoughts alike.
Dreams are longer, sleep shorter,
little hours are still less than ever.
I leave little unseen, for
this is His Kind December.
what I find this night is a collage
that daubs me life-size in filaments.
I see me move and stay, fade and falter,
sink and surface like an airborne feather.
And I am but a night of this season.
Hai 'Night'poems has always interested me, William Blake's being my favorite. Loved your poem Thanks for sharing Maria
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
'I see me move and stay, fade and falter, sink and surface like an airborne feather. And I am but a night of this season'. beautiful eloquent images in these lines JP...good poem...i liked...10