The blood streaked sky has shot the setting sun
by Janet Mary Zylstra
And night stalks in, his stars like medals
For countless battles fought and won against the day.
The silence of the evening falls like fear.
A blackbird calls and twilight shifts,
Uneasy for the rebel who defies
The dictatorship of darkness.
Night thrusts himself across the land,
His cronies sneaking soft pawed and long fanged
To snatch the breakers of his curfew.