The Chalice of Night

The Chalice of Night pours dark on the stair drops of shadows that don't belong there. Echoes of footsteps--do they signal harm? Whispers in bushes that push our alarm. We know spirits like to do their roaming in quiet darkness or amid murky gloaming. We feel their breath as it tickles our ear; murmuring softly, they arouse more fear. Walking alone on a deserted lane in dark night, footfalls I cannot explain. Is that just a bush, or something unknown? can it be paper, or a silk kerchief shown? Reading alone by mere lamp flame, I hear someone whisper my name. A step on the stair, a brush of air, I wonder if Night is creeping in there. At night, it's best to sit outside by fire, gaze at stars' wonder to our heart's desire. Release our dark fears to nightfall instead, and leave expired mortals entirely dead! January 19, 2022