Night it is the Veil

The night is dark, so dark
On my left a black border of trees
Painted like a cut out card creating the edge of my scene
To the right, a distant glow of some town or other where
life is on going.

Where Mary calls to Colin
And John is making tea
Where the striker scores a goal
And the wife is called to see

No lights but stars twinkling above
Pinpricks of candlelight in the neverending sky
An occasional helicopter or plane flies by
- shooting stars on a set run

Three lamps marking the A5
And I can hear nothing save the wind in the trees
Cocooned in black
With my face pressed against the veil.