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Night ©

Nat Hall
Sandwick, Shetland
2005

Dusk is a Dame,
dressed to attract like a magnet,
metallic blue or just jet black,
my loneliness and my angels.
This sky's in rags,
torn between flares around pale stars -
too weak to love,
cries to the Moon -
sister Darkness hides all his scars.
She's cold and damp,
indigo blue;
waltzes with dreams -
drinks from the clouds...
Night,
like sunflowers in a bouquet;
globular gold,
dark at its heart;
a thousand eyes look down on me
as if to say
"you're not alone".
A capella,
night is when you return to me;
your love and smile, but a ghost -
song without words,
I need to feel, not just to see.
Blissful moments
slide before dawn, they feel
so real.



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