The saddened, miserable light
barely seems to fit the blustery sky
on this dreary tumultuous night.
It doesn't expand to enlighten the land,
it barely even reaches the edges,
not pliable enough
or elastic enough to stretch it
from its little place amongst the stars
invisible in space.
It just sits covered in fog,
delighting nothing.
The ground chills,
glistening streets
share their crystal glitz,
but up beyond the foggy air,
the deep grey cloud awning,
the moon
tiredly yawning, bored of the view.
It wants to see me and you,
the human race and the animals too.
It's grown accustomed
to us being the first view
it's glowing eyes taste.
But tonight
the lonely satellite hides from sight.
No spectral moonlight just the deep dark
deadness of a tear after midnight.
Our only respite...
The glare of streetlights...
Oh, the council
have switched them off.
Who needs to see
during the close of night?
The moon sits wallowing,
down in the pits.
Tears start to drip one after another.
Drip. Drip. Drip...
The clouds bathe in the salty fluid
filtering it through,
distilling all the goodness within.
And then the deluge begins...
Fog quickly clearing
like a crowd caught in a storm.
The clouds move on,
saturating all of the land,
singing their melodic song.
The light touches the ground,
A big, wide smile beams down
as the moon joins with the clouds
Thanks for reading
Follow this link for more.
https://linktr.ee/Wordsandfluff
You can find my New books
"Tales from the 44A" and "Stations
here
https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B0DBKXPN13/
and here
continue to do this.
Peace, Love & Poetry
Kyle
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