Late In the Night
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I’m what wails late in the night
when it's dark and time erodes.
And the howl that conjures fright
traveling down lonely roads.
The moon dims its meager light
as darkness extends its hand.
And rescinds nocturnal sight
when banks of fog shroud the land.
I'm in sync with nature's way,
gallivanting to and fro.
And tread upon grass or clay,
neither a friend nor a foe.
I imbue blossoming trees
amidst shadows black as coal.
Their fragrance perfumes each breeze,
rejuvenating my soul.
Like a bastard child of fear
I haunt the world of my birth.
And quietly disappear
when the sun lights up the earth.
Copyright © Emile Pinet | Year Posted 2016
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