Night is not just day

Night is not just day

With the lights turned off

Unless we lie buried

Deep down underground

In the darkest cave

Without benefit of glow-sticks

Torch or a Davy lamp

There will always be light enough

To see by

If we need to find a way

The stars are wonders set to guide us

More than pinpricks in a sky

Moulded out of shadows

A geocentric diorama

On a grand scale

Courtesy of Plato

The moon wilts in partial

Acquiescence as it acts

As celestial arbiter

Street lights flicker

Blinking on and off

They seem to bicker

Like old flames waiting for their pension

On a Thursday

Trying to make light

Of a frightful situation

As darkness falls

So many buildings closed till morning

Brightly lit as candles burning

Through the passing of the ages

In remembrance

Of man’s struggle to restrain

The inevitable onset of night

Doing less than

To restrict its progress

Skirting the jagged edges

Where the faceless dance

In medieval frenzy

A primordial envy

Waiting to encroach

Upon the nakedness of sunlight

Removing its shadow mask

To steal our souls away

Carried on darkest wings

Deeply down into the abyss

Where there is never any

Twilight gloaming

But an absence, absolute

Of all, or any light.