MY MIDNIGHT HOUR
BY FIONA CUMMINGS
It’s late in the evening
The neighbours are sleeping
Cows in the field are flat to the ground
It’s a winters blanket all around
Far in the distance
Is a dog who’s persistent
Barking to the moon
Poor thing will be freezing
The ice isn’t pleasing
I want to give that animal a room
Who can leave such beauty outside?
Can’t they hear him cry?
I ask myself why
Are people so cruel
Is it because they are playing the fool?
The odd car passes by
Reflections from headlights torch the sky
That kind of silent slushing sound
As gripping tires cling to tarmac
Fighting through the drive so black
To their homes
Wherever they may be
Thoughts to their amber flames
To warm hands so chilli
I love the clouds the different tones
Though night colours of navy
Stars of silver kind of chrome
Perhaps a inky shade maybe?
Cobalt blue for sure
And a touch of azure
Hints of charcoal grey
As the moon dances not wanting to stay
Who controls that I say
And moreover why
Who says when it must die
And why has it such power
This is my midnight hour
COPYRIGHT FIONA
CUMMINGS 2015
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