The Night is Quiet


The night is quiet
and I am alone
alone with the drip drip drip
the faucet?
the rain outside?
my head isn’t quite sure
but my ears are used to the sound
and barely notice
the night is quiet
and makes no demands
the moon sees but doesn’t tell
although I have looked at it and asked
knowledge is power
and even more so when hoarded
if it was shared
would that change it?
could you fix it?
fix me…
the night is quiet
and I am alone
with my thoughts and with the slowing
drip drip drip
you were here
but you have gone
although parts of you remain
here with me
in the quiet of the night
as the stain slowly spreads
drip drip drip







About chimerapoet

I write. I write a lot. A. LOT. There are times I am half blind with a sentence ricocheting off the walls of my stupid, cant be shut off to save my life, brain. I am miserable until I get it down on paper. Punch it up a bit. Usually cross out half of it. And then breathe. Relax. Only to do it all again..... But I just thought that was me. How I am. Not a writer....noooo...not me. Writers are.....writing people. People Who Write. REALLY write. Write things that matter. All grown up very important things. I am just a scribbler of sorts. And I was/am content with that....if it's true, well then....a scribbler am I. Until the thought wormed its way in to my brain (the furtive sneaky bitch) that maybe...just maybe...that is writing. My style. My strange way. But....still writing. So here I am at the dance. Not sure I know any of the moves and the music is entirely mine. But.....only one way to find out. Would you care to join me?
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One Response to The Night is Quiet

  1. bejamin4 says:

    A truly great read. I loved the twist and turns of this one, and the use of repetition.

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