Insidious Nox Poem by Rory Briggs
Insidious Nox
The night is dead.
Mellow light stubbornly submits.
A heinous haze sifts in,
Unnoticed it sieves above.
Not a sound nor a tread.
What fills up the ground?
Through a ghostly glare
Of frostbitten dews
All aligned, benign, in their pews.
Not a tear, not a touch.
Not to blot out the moon in two.
It’s promised this much,
Not to dissemble the scene
Or seal it up with gullible glue.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/24/2024 6:26:49 AM # 1.0.0.1119
