It Was Past Midnight

It was past midnight when rhyme knocked, disturbing the stillness of my thoughts, and begged me to write the night’s lore But free verse, like Igorot warrior entered the scene and in a war dance encircled my illusion; ready to battle the twin wrestlers from Nihon-koku As I plucked out the syllables blinking in the dark sky that rolled out like papyrus blanketing my spirits Fibonacci offered to do the counting Ah, math is so fascinating but I only understand the simplicity of one, two, three, and four that's saving me from corruption My shadow sighed and perceived the poetry of my being gone cold, like December ice The forms have confused my breath of life like blooming horse on a deserted field that I went to sleep without a poem