Those
sisters,
Death and Night,
aren't really twins –
though people assume
they mirror each other.
Both can be sweet or bitter,
soft, or impenetrably dense.
But Night always dresses in darkness.
Death – do notice! – is enfolded in light.
A terrific micro poem,
ReplyDeleterosemary-- I think you may be right, and I hope she has relief tucked up her sleeves. K.
It's not a position I had – at least not consciously – before writing the poem. It's something I was shown in writing it.
DeleteIndeed! Night always implies darkness (mysterious, soothing, scary for some...). Death, although the "long sleep", can also be the last walk into the light...
ReplyDeleteAh! yes, such an unusual juxtaposition.
ReplyDeleteI like this, the idea of Death being enfolded in light - it sounds comforting.
ReplyDeleteOoooooh, I love the differentiation: death is enfolded in light. Brilliant!
ReplyDeleteI think yes... that's the crucial difference.. that light makes all the difference
ReplyDeleteA crucial distinction, Rosemary -- the one is the shadow of the other, perhaps. Such a light shines in darkness, its candescence hasn't a name ..
ReplyDeleteRosemary, I liked the idea of your sisters being night and light. We have twin sons, now adults. They are identical, but mirror twins. Even mirrored to the extent of one being right handed and the other left.
ReplyDeleteAnd with the night more bad things happen than in light. But one night in Houston (Texas) we street parked under a street light while eating at a nearby restaurant. When we came out our car had been broken into and things were stolen. No one died though.
..
Oh my..Night does where black and death goes into light. Incredible take on the prompt.
ReplyDeleteLove the wisdom of your close.
ReplyDeleteAnna :o]