Midnight is mystical

Midnight is mystical

The bright light of a big sky

A million stars

An array of galactic proportion

A parsec so easily travelled

In a lazy sweep

Of a sleepy head.

The scope of

Its hypothetical geometry

Providing

A reason to believe

In magical thinking.

Reading by starlight

Sitting in expectation

Of sleeping

Remembering hand holding

When it was less about

Patriarchal ownership

More about passion.

Writing sonnets

Using fridge magnets.

The laughter of lovers

Travelling up from the street

As the book slides down

Onto the floor

Spilling cold water

Onto my feet

So close to sleeping

There is barely a shake

Worthy of a shaggy dog

But a startled bark from

An invisible sentry next door

Reminds me of the hour

As the moon bares its soul

To the world below

Such sorrows

Are open to debate

But not tonight

As unasked questions

Float into the night

Where they are smitten

With the power

To glisten

In early morning dewdrops

Where so many truths

Gather

Waiting to be found

Before the closing

Of a leaf.