Tag: night

boating at night

the boat of course is metaphor
though it is, undeniably, night

and fingers do trail over the side,
but also over stern and bow

it is also true that we do move as water –
that hair cascades and skin ripples

but that again is metaphor,
for which I am unapologetic

and I cannot be at all contrite
for not minding stirring up depths

or were we to drown together
beneath the moon’s regard

in fact, my heart, that may be all
that is certain and indisputable

© Sarah Whiteley

pearl from shadow

there is no finer promise
than the uncertain light
which finds you
from between the blinds
and casts you
in bewitching blue –

a hue into which my hands
are driven to dive –
pulling the pearl
from the shadow

© Sarah Whiteley

the departed

your departure has the weight of ash no longer carrying your fate, I return to my old shape days hold their same complexities but night has become startlingly simple – rucked sheets, wooden bed-frame – there’s no need to believe in anything else how is … Continue reading the departed

insomnia

craving stars, I crept down the crouching hallway, disturbing only moths seeking their own small allowance of light trees sleep, lowering their limbs by fractions as the day subsides, leaving only the incremental gestures of slumber I have had to explain often the peculiar edicts … Continue reading insomnia

the hours of you that remain

we say goodnight,
then goodnight,
and once more a goodnight
of softening kisses –
just as the dawn
cracks the night

I count the hours of you
that remain to me,
and tuck them about us –
thin comfort against
the coming light

© Sarah Whiteley