“No darker place than our thoughts, the midnight of the mind” – Dean Koontz
H awk moon hangs heavy
in the damp night sky
bulbous moist orb
punches
through a cold chromium fog
wet slivers of cloud
ooze themselves
across its face
breathing
it’s midnight
the sorrowing hour
laying bare your soul
in frail introspection
in grief of secrets
*
rob kistner © 2022
Poetry at: dVerse
