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Night

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The wash of night falls down upon
The sleepers of the earth and
Blankets them in a
Soft silence
The sky is dark
The sun's eye is closed too
Then disrupts a soft pitter
Frantic,
A child,
Who runs to be wrapped in
His mother's arms and
Forget the knavish night.



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IzzyVT said...
Jan. 3, 2012 at 3:19 pm:
I love the sounds of your poem...particularly the alliteration of "knavish night". A sweet poem...
 
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