That Midnight Poem by RIC BASTASA

She is the only one that moves now

Her soundless feet keen on the floor

Her silence seeps

In empty corners where all the sorrows sleep

She dances in the grace of afternoon petals falling off

Her cold breath hovers

In the roofs that vigil the death of the noisy crowd

A loner

A curious clone of a black ghost

She visits abandoned rooms

And cracks stories concealed by the muted angers

She drops a secret like a feather

Floating and I though awake

Throughout her wakings and walk-ins

Could not recall having caught one

In such slowness

What she really says amidst the silence

Or meant in all these dark passage

The mirror on the wall stares

And glares at me with anger

One must have just died

The killer fled

Hidden by her black capes

Another secret I supposed

And though I thought

I knew

She had already flown away

Like a black bird into the night

I want to make some rain for her

Or offer her a lace of my tears

But by then another morning has come

Gently touching me

With flowers

And dove on my palms.