Midnight Hour

Long since the veil of Nyx
Was drawn across the vestiges of day
When what is, became what was
Cloaking indiscretions past

The solemn  hours steal memories
Intrude upon form and fantasy
Soften and shape the world
Hiding the worst neath silence

Time is the only constant
A lone companion
Sharing the darkness
Savoring our rendezvous

We wait, absent of emotion
Marking the death of yesterday
Playing out before us
With waning breath

We do not mourn the loss
Simply observe the departure
Watching the night slip away
Here in the midnight hour

From the archives May 2015

 

About oldmainer

I am a retired manager living in Southern Maine and a would be writer of poetry, narratives, short stories, and random opinions, and that's how Oldmainer was born. Recently, I decided to try an experiment. I added photography to the mix, using only a cheap cell phone with a limited camera and the editing software that came with it, and added the blog site Inklings at poormanspoet.wordpress.com to showcase the results. So, feel free to use whatever you find interesting or worthy, but please honor the terms of my copyright when and if you do. They may not be much, but they are still a piece of me. I appreciate your checking me out and hope that you find something that will encourage a return visit. Thanks for stopping by.
This entry was posted in Free Verse, Insight, Journey, Life, Love, Memories, Perspective, Poetry, Reflection and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

1 Response to Midnight Hour

  1. George says:

    This was written from your soul. It was personal. And beautiful.

    Like

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