nocturne

it spreads
like a sigh
out of the silence
of the night

only a dog
yipping

yapping

only the shadows
stirring

and the murmur
rolling down
from the height
of the hill

the car
ploughing darkness
is a ghost
of after-light
driving the wind
before it

shepherding this
nocturne
somewhere deeper


© Frank Prem, 2017

December 2017 Poem #36 sacrifice

2 thoughts on “nocturne

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