It's Still Life

Penumbra

The night is full of its own.
The night creeps. Sleeps.
The night is colour blind.
It’s transfixed like a piece of wood.
It’s an echo. It dreams.
It’s death. Birth. It’s a blur.
The night is for promises.
The night sips sacred nectar.
The night is its own penumbra.

Written for Miz Quickly’s 12 August Repetition & Change prompt. Shared with @Miz_Quickly and @Experimentsinfc #APoemADay on Twitter   ©Misky 2021. Image is from Unsplash.