Senses of Night

Grant Hope #194

The passage of time is different when dusk has died
the trees are blacker than shadow and can only be seen under the cloudy haze of the moon
it’s like there is a lady playing with father time’s hourglass
letting the sands leak out so that earth’s natural satellite can have its own high noon

Dark has its own kind of heat even though it’s quite cool
it can be insidiously inviting but also provocatively fun
in the night the senses heighten
whether you are comfortably safe or on the run
Noises are ludicrously louder
light is pleasantly more precious when cracking through crevices and bending around edges
it can be as engaging as a flight of fancy
though mostly it is a time to sleep and avoid encounters unpredictable and unseen

This night is too long
sleep is restless and short
though the hours drag endlessly on
if I wasn’t so tired I might dare to say there is a lady standing above the forest sprinkling the sands of a giant hourglass
watching the forest stand still while playing with father time

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