spectating participant


April 13, 2004

night, I miss you.

Filed under: unlisted — suzanne henderson @ 11:00 pm

Night doesn’t come here anymore. Black silhouettes of trees border the sky outside my window. Yellowed grey splashed across the sky pretending sanctuary from the sun. Damp fog hanging out of reach, unable to pull it back and find the few stars that remain. City lights have pierced the charcoal sea of silence that used to drown the trees and houses. The cuts bleed yellow and white, pushing the stars back beyond visibility. The rain left the air too crisp and bitter against my skin with it’s chilled grasp. Once, I’ve retreated under the covers, cuddled into night, and hidden in the blackness that only my pillow can provide, I’ll appreciate the wisps of wet whispers brush my cheek and ear, even if they brush me without the shimmer of starlight. How I miss the night, the nocturnal soundtrack and settled assurance that everything will rest, renew and be ready for dawn’s beckoning of life.