Midnight
A deafening silence on every turn,
Darkness swallows the twinkling burn,
Yesterday’s grievances need to be learned,
Before one loses this day to earn.
Frogs that croak with little care,
Owl eyes that follow and stare,
Dark and cold, a fearsome pair,
Wreck havoc together, no corner spared.
The quiet night could soon be lost,
When no one prepares for the light of dawn.
Copyright © Rita Burns | Year Posted 2024
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