By Joseph B. St. John
Lost without a trace
Wandering the night time alone
The spell is never broken and the sunshine never glows
Waiting so patiently to devour what belongs to her
She enters neither sleep nor consciousness
She is holding the dark to find her art of loss
Hush Little Baby…don’t you cry…
It is only a stone’s throw away from the sun
Not a Scream
Nor a Whisper
A Black Rose
In the Night
Crushing Monsters rule the night time
Impaling your pretty bed…
They Have Arrived
In the night time charged.
The iguana and the shadow lizard
Move slowly through the sleepy room.
In the quick air of anticipation,
They are here
Moving slowly, close at hand,
The iguana sits alone in the moonlight.
He is proud, noble and clear.
The shadow lizard creeps slowly along the wall.
He is secret – he is distant but he is here.
Eagerly but quietly, they move to awaken sleep.
One on the right and one on the left.
Their cold hard skin rubs against the warmth.
Claws explore the external mass.
They feast on the believer’s hand;
Each one taking their bites.
What is left after they dine?
What is left of the night? The Day?
Dance in the sunrise awaking,
Dance in the morning dew.
Feel the breath of the new day.
Touch the earth’s gentle crust.
Eyes squint to watch its birth.
Soft moister eases onto tighten skin.
Move forward to embrace the heat.
Sense earth and breeze and life rush by.
Awake Awake Awake…
Gather the press of experience.
Return to the harvest past.
Return to the morning it all started.
Caress the light and sun and shade.
Consider the dirt’s coarse exterior.
The Sky stands high and open.
A flutter breaks the quiet day!
Three birds stand proud-
Hawks brown and flowing – Melo and Mikiff.
The white bird of peace nearby.
IT is calm.
IT IS GENTEEL.
The Day opens anew.