Poetry

Nights Passing

Evening is when the day sets,

settles, creaks, and moans to rest;

Tucks, snuggles, and pulls the cover

over the suns final silhouettes.

 

It’s when the cool wind stirs

some awake and lulls others to sleep

and nocturnal beings venture

in the shadows of the moon.

 

When our dreams become real

the mind takes you to places imagined

to people your to shy to meet

but in this world surreal

 

You sometimes waken with worries

that seem bigger than life

to things unseen but imagined

to things dreamed, not real.

 

© 2017 Don Stewart