Poem by Lily Swarn
The Music of Night
Night has its own music
That of silence
A punch of quietude
A vacuum like hollowness
Carved out from cacophonous day
Sculpted with statuesque midnight
Coal black and palpable
Flirtatious moon
Wooing the silver stars
Suspended in eternal shine
A thick velvet pall of serenity
A bit like Donne’s death
Proud night
Haughty in its attitude
With only a hooting owl
And a squeaking mouse
A bewitched banshee
Hanging upside down
From the ancient banyan tree
And your heart thudding next to mine
Rapid fire and staccato
Copyright Lily Swarn 23.1.2018
