Ingrid Showalter Swift Poet Free verse

Night Has Spilled It's Chalice

Night has spilled  it's crimson chalice
across the horizon
Feathered color spreads along the bottom 
of the bone white clouds
  the center ball slips too soon below
and from the spilt chalice flows
 navy darkness....and ever deepening ink
creeping and seeping
 chasing the color down
 lowing it all away

Then from the highest heights piercing
             pin points of light 

and rising up to them...
with tomorrow's sun 
refecting
 off the blasted surface
A white grey moon
to haunt and woo
It's light
kissing the wave tips
stealing the brilliant bait from each
and running up into me 

I  am lost in the shimmering 
serenade
 Swayed into a hope... I didn't see coming
Bedazzled and bejeweled in enticing light

as if the shore and sky could join 
inside me 
like a wafting song that floats in the night

I stop and hold my breath...to listen and not miss one
note

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