Night Song

Night Song


Dusk hangs curtains of mists in the valley below

Readying for the nocturnes in song and beat

Moon bright, luminescent then a backlight to the

Curtains of the primal soup once feared to be deadly


Owls ask softly “who, who?” like philosophical questions

Needing answered by morning while crickets tune and coyotes

Practice harmony and the whippoorwill starts it’s mournful call

Whip poor will and the quail calls to it’s universal name

“Bob White, Bob White?”


A bull frog swells his throat then utters “Errrruummmp!”

While his hapless young sibling screams suddenly finding his

Lower half in the throat of a water snakes death grip..

All creatures mindful of the rushing whoosh of feathered shadows


My mind in the elevated fanciful imagination mode waiting for

Mornings sun to burn a little reality back into me

Night since before time always heightening loneliness,

Romance, a different reality and creativity in thought,

Imagination and the mists in the valley that awaken

Spirits mingling with our ancient instincts and memories


As a nocturnal creature slave to my bio-clock I edit my

Writing and my mind to prepare for a much-needed nap.


Carl James


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