Dark. A prism of black, colorless
Hues. The mortician emptying day
Ligh as the gravedigger buryies the
Sun. The Layman’s requium to
Yesterday. A dirge in twenty-four
Movements. All the mystics rejoice in night’s
Enigma. As lightning clouds move to the
East. This abiding fall birthing a
New so that times may never cease to
Endure. The camouflage clouds empty
Themselves. A gift to Earthly givers.
Jeremy D. Grimes
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/night-rain-4/
