Come, Gentle Night
- By Adrienne Tinn
- Published 03/14/2007
- Poetry and Short Stories
Come, Gentle Night
In the shadow of a greater power
Giant whirling suns traverse the sky,
Trees with blackened branches climb and tower
Over weary travellers passing by.
Daytime birdsong is a hard, harsh crowing.
Vultures perch aloft to swoop and strike;
Cruel eyes of amber, burning, glowing;
Soot-black feathers, Torquemada-like.
Sunlight hard and harsh as anger burning;
Landscape barren as a desert scene;
Wind-caught grasses writhe here, twisting, turning.
Memory returns a brilliant green.
Distant cry of pain, swift rising, falling,
Trembles drooping leaves of grey and brown,
Sending out a message with the calling.
Shrieked crescendo swiftly dying down.
Purpled sky; far off a lone star peeping.
A cool breeze blows. The birds have taken flight.
Peace at last! The traveller is sleeping
In the gentle comfort of the night.
Adrienne Tinn
©Copyright 2007
