I’m so happy to let fall
from my fingers these
black stones of the day

and wrap my hands
in the softly whispering silk
of the night’s blessed dark.

The intrusion of the world
shoving its daylit inanities
into my pockets and demanding

that all its needs are paramount,
that the heart and the soul
weigh nothing against its priorities

falls easily, softly into
the veiled well of the moon,
whence a smiling face rises.

I pull her to me, her shining tresses
wind gracefully around me
as we dance lightly across
her black marble floors in starlight glistening.

-Kevin Trammel
2/13/2022

See my books, Gathered Rain, and Between the Hours, for more poetry, art, and prose.