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Mischief of the Night
April 30, 2013
In the night,
The taste of a howl stings and lingers.
I watch as the whispers blow leaves
In circles across the forest floor.
I smell the mischief of the night,
Sweet and inviting, but soon it will make me sick.
Then I feel a new idea,
A burst of energy after a long tiring day.
As I make my way home
A bright orange baby’s cry demands my attention.
It is impossible to ignore. Almost blinding,
The sun is now rising
Night closes,
White moves in the sky,
Slow and graceful like a ballerina.
I lay in my bed, mind racing
© Steve S., Marblehead, MA
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