The Room at the End
From the dark that huddled near the top of the stairsYour own darkness rose - shadow, then candle light
Down the quiet long hallway, then soft silent footsteps
To the room at the end where I waited, not knowing
I was waiting or for whom until you entered and paused
Beside my bed . . . dropped your darkness like a gown,
Stood for a moment gazing out of the moon-lit window.
Your hand hovered over the candle flame as though
You meant to hold it, and then softly snuffed it out.
Night after night now I wait for you to come again,
Turn away from the window and leave the candle lit.
Poetry by countryfog
Read 625 times
Editors' choiceWritten on 2011-04-17 at 19:07
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