Fly until summer’s gone
Nothing left
No place smiles
You creep into bed
Lost in a haze of thoughts
Of the queen of a dying
Country.
Midnight was a time of
Beginning.
Transition.
Still, it is.
But not as new
Cold poets weeping
Their tears
Riveting fish
In bowls
Who have never seen water out of
Context.
Just stand there
And breathe their pain
Hear the way their eyes droop
It’s like they cannot bear to
Look up
To the moon and star spattered sky
No longer
But forever more.
You want a song sung
Of passion
Of happiness
Of love.
Yet when poets cry
And fish gape like
They’re being strangled
Willingly
And the midnight has lost its
Whimsy
Where is the dawn at the end?
At the end of a sleepless night?
Where is the relief after a long cry?
Where is the joy of seeing a friend?
Climbing a mountain
Dancing in the rain?
How can you find rest,
Until you find
Your friend and sink into
An embrace?
How can you dance in the rain
When the sun is smothering the clouds?
How can you cease the
Wild torrent of tears
When you know there will be no
Relief?
How can you fall asleep peacefully when you know there will be no
Morning?
How can you climb the mountain
When you can’t see
Where your feet are treading?
How can you stop?
Fly.
Fly until it’s over.