Deep in grey
we wait
as black night drops
suddenly
and completely.
At the end of our day,
hope is measured
one careful procedure
at a time.
Night is not kind in winter.
Too early It comes,
and stays too long,
brings fear,
red eyes and stinging tears.
lit by red numbers
night measures our lives
one pulse at a time,
in dim blue bars
gleaming in the distant ceiling.
Clasping hands
In the fading day’s light
we pray
for one more
morning.
(28 Oct 2010)
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