It Is Night

(You can view the video, lower right)

It Is Night

It is night.
I walk under the
half-eaten moon.
What is left of it is
pocked & deep scarred
by its devourer.
My jailer walks with me
shadowing every step
a mimic of my smallest detail.
I tremble at each thing
I cannot control and
I cannot control a thing.
Why do anything timid, by half
I ask the jailer. The
engines of my being are
not by half.
But even the engines of
my own being have their
secret clock:
get me up
run me ragged
throw me down.
Each day squandered.
Today I parsed yesterday,
yesterday the day before.
It is night and I am
walking half eaten
beneath the moon.

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One Response to It Is Night

  1. slpmartin says:

    Really found this poem quite poignant….thanks for sharing your poem.

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