Midnight Poem by Dorothy Parker
Midnight
Rating: ★3.0
The stars are soft as flowers, and as near;
The hills are webs of shadow, slowly spun;
No separate leaf or single blade is here-
All blend to one.
No moonbeam cuts the air; a sapphire light
Rolls lazily. and slips again to rest.
There is no edged thing in all this night,
Save in my breast.
Friday, January 3, 2003
Topic(s) of this poem: flowers
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8/6/2026 8:48:23 PM # rel_20260806T081513Z_580e7f4
