I never write at night / Poem by Mar Thieriot

 
Poem by Mar Thieriot
 
 
I never write at night
 
Tonight though: I wait
As before the storm
I wait for a woman
To carry the beautiful child gently
At Christmas eve…
I wait for two lovers to meet again
I wait for a man to forgive himself
I wait for the return of Ulysses
I am the exhaustion of Penelope
I do not write any more at night
But this evening of full moon
As before the storm
I cannot keep silent
I wait for a voice that apologizes
A lie that retreats
A mask that falls
Eyes half closed
A biting cold
I write again at night
Stars rain on the keyboard
I wait for the gold of darkness
I wait for them to disarm
It is still early
It is dark
The moon gains the sky
The cold water soaks the horizon
A time of gray cat
A time before time
Like before the dawn
washed by the storm at last.
 
 
 

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