in the dead
of night
I write
for 'tis then when my thoughts are draped
like soggy towels on a sagging clothesline
but in the light
of pestering day
they
bounce around like busy buzzing bees
in a place I call my head
so in the dead
of night
I write
and squeeze what I can
from those soul soaked rags
hoping what flows won't be like tears
or some sanguine soup to **** my fears
for in the dead of night
I write
not to purge my heavy heart
of pain and grief
but to come closer to true belief