she sings the lonesome wind to sleep

written for a friend

she sings

the lonesome wind to sleep

after evening dinner

and poker

with a bit of whisky breath

the moon's risen

and hung

in the heavens unadorned

just southeast

of where she sits

wrapped in sweaters and long johns

 

listening now

the wind has stopped blowing

and she thinks, God

this silence sometimes

hurts my ears

 

lights begin to appear

along the

Northern horizon

whispy strands of

iridescent colors

stray on to the night sky

and gone

seconds later they're back

less bold

but still there

 

She sighs

her camera is

just inside the nook

but with winter

coming on

there will be time enough

for that

leaning back

she whispers, if only

I could capture

the darkness

to print,

now that

would be something

 

the wind wakes up

she shivers

wraps herself tighter

and softly sings awhile longer

 

 

finally

she gets up

to go inside

and on to bed

tomorrow

early

before the mist clears

she'll try and catch

a ravens smile

 

© 2010 Mark C. Jackson

Author's Note

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