The Living Night Poem by Adam Hollingsworth

Outside in the living night
It whispers sounds so silent and right
With a running visitor lost in the wind
We can’t see him, because he hides and blends
Seeking the fiery chill of life
While he runs, in the living night

Sitting silently under the stars, he slips away,
Smoke drifts from my fingertips, and a loud dog plays
Shifting shrilly right out through the sky
When life falls quiet, we know it’s a lie
He seeks comfort in the fiery chill of life
While he runs, in the living night