Night Poem

“Write a night poem,” 

came the instruction,

and at once I went blank.

I won’t say my mind went blank; 

no, it was full of invention. 

I started a poem about

black velvet skies 

and diamond stars, 

but I couldn’t extend it

past that hackneyed image.

I thought of writing how nights 

are lonely now without you — 

but the fact is, although true,

that’s only part of the story. I 
am one who likes aloneness.

I planned fantastical,

lurid words to conjure up

magickal tales of the night,

perhaps without much meaning.

They seemed too silly.

I picked up my book instead,

settled against my pillows,

sipped my cocoa and patted my cat,

as I like to do at night. But you can’t
make a poem out of that.

April PAD Challenge 2014, day 6: A night poem