Skip to main content

Still Night ( a 55 word poem)

The grey noise ebbs suddenly away,
Leaves me in a quaint reverie—
Sporadic thoughts, assuaging ruminations hold sway—
Distant companions to every

Swift, slow or wild mood of mine. The madrone
Hills fade surreptitiously in the eerie sunset—
I get up. Moonlight. I am on my own;
Quietly I vanish into the glowing shadow belt.

Comments

Nicole Braganza said…
The entire imagery of the poem is beautiful but as a whole it does not communicate much to me, or perhaps there is something in it that I fail to see.
. : A : . said…
Good one. I like the rhythm to this.

Thanks for taking it up. Have put up a link at my blog. Do you want to add the technorati tag?

55 word poem
Casablanca said…
Good one! More in the pipeline? :)
Roger Stevens said…
Brilliant. Very atmospheric too. I love the link between the two verses.

This is the second 55 word poem I've encountered. Looks like I'll have to investigate further.
Just brilliant thanks for shairing it do call again at my blog and thank-you
Shubhodeep said…
nic-> i hope the loneliness, atleast comes through
.:a:. -> thanks. ive added the tag
casablanca -> you never know when the muse might strike
roger -> thanks
sue -> i sure will. drop by again.
Anonymous said…
I'm here via Lorena's or A's blog although I've seen your name on several other poetry blogs I've recently found, like .:A:.'s. where I noticed the 55 word poem idea.

I feel desolation among the beauty of nature's elements. It seems the loveliness of moonlight, hills, and sunset are in stark contrast to your solitary spinning mind. I enjoyed this piece.

P.S. I noticed something unusual in common with me in your profile. The very first Agatha Christie book I read was And Then There Were None. Later it was renamed to Ten Little Indians. (I'm a voracious reader, too.)

Popular posts from this blog

Untitled Haiku

Black water In the lake today Smells like death

Index Of First Lines

(a cutout) The grey cat stirs upon the ledge, The bay is thick with flecks of white— Swift rays across the falling wall below, The floor before my bed is bright. From crumbling walls white-headed crows take flight. And half out of sleep I watch your sleeping face: Grateful for the resin-scented night. I get up and go out in a solitary daze… Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays!!