(15/07/56 / Curragh Camp, Co. Kildare, Eire.)

' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' Dark Was The Night (For Onelia)

The noise
tore the quiet

as if the night
were made of paper.

Out of
the torn sound

an owl emerged
with a little creature

still struggling
in its talons.

The moon now
blindfolded by clouds

as if she were
Justice herself.

The dark
flooded back

ruthlessly whispering

“You didn’t see that! '

A little stream
gurgled unseen

as if it was been
strangled.

The night had lost
its romance.

Death echoing
like our footsteps

in the... stillness.

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Comments (4)

I found here again the telltale feather from the 'wings of desire' :) the angel has been here :)
...as if the night were made of paper... one can almost hear this noise of the night... it becomes almost palpable - a wonderful comparison, i like all the illuminated details of this dark night
Beautifully descriptive...love this one. Ruthie
Wow, sometimes the things we think we see in darkness are more terrifying than those seen by full light of day.