Midnight Garden


Roses become alien in the moonlight

for how could they be of this earth?

when every curve of every petal

turns into a star – hiding secrets of the past

The light of something once alive 

now dead

reaches out

forming silvery lines


Like fingers pointing through the darkness

directing me towards this midnight garden

Rivers of grass become luminescent caverns

hidden deep beneath the sea

Tiny moths circle the air without direction

becoming glittery figures surfing the twelve ‘o’ clock wave


Leaves fall to the ground

like comets folding into the dirt


and with the ease

of a summer night’s breeze









Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s