Friday, August 26, 2005

Black Night

Last night I was woken up
By old ghosts, and they brought along
Their new friends.
They talked all night
And kept me awake with the noise
Of running feet and hands that wouldn’t stay still
For long.
They said I was the ghost
And wanted me out,
But the door was locked
And I watched them
Invade my room,
Tear apart my music
And replace it
With their ruptured, guttural voices.
And before I knew it
They opened the window
And showed me a way
To escape
The dark night.
Last night was black.



You always make me wonder, N.A... And it's a great many things you make me think about...


A poem too, perhaps, waiting to be born...

Ashish Gorde said...

The kind of poem that makes one think...