Tuesday, 22 September 2009

Darkly Darkly

It is dark out by eight o'clock again.
I've stopped closing my shutters
but the sunlight doesn't wake me in the morning.
Past the glass and through the trees, I can see another window,
smaller than a postage stamp and lit up like Christmas;
the occupant is dancing.


Svenske Floyd said...

You know I like your poems. This one too!

Jordan said...

It's exciting.