Written 30th September, 2026
Poetry Wheel Challenge
Theme: Night. Emotion: Curiosity Color: Silver Season: Autumn Form: Villanelle Object: Mirror Verb: Whisper
I hear it whisper through the night. Dry leaves crunch where moon-pale shadows grow. I lean toward what it keeps beyond my sight. The moon lies caught in tarnished, shifting light; A thin wind threads the rusted leaves below. I hear it whisper through the night. A moth worries the glass with dusted flight; Its powdery wings disturb a muted glow. I lean toward what it keeps beyond my sight. Behind the glass, a narrow path burns bright; Though no path runs beneath the branches’ glow, I hear it whisper through the night. The face within looks back—not quite aright; Its hand lifts slower than it ought to go. I lean toward what it keeps beyond my sight. Dry leaves crunch beneath my feet at night; The garden holds one secret from long ago. I hear it whisper through the night; I lean toward what it keeps beyond my sight.
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