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  • writertaboland

Comes the Night

Come,

like a breeze in the trees

at high altitude

brush the world with fresh hues,

vibrant golds and amber

against a canvas of indigo sky.

sweep away the stifling winds of summer

that swelter above stagnant ponds

exhale one last radiant burst

of life energy

before night falls.

Come,

though brother is vexed and anxious

unprepared for the calendar appointment

embracing change as natural order

while cursing man’s powerlessness

to control earth’s headlong

flight around the sun.

inevitably, the cold dark of winter

arrives without invitation

or fanfare

and those who hurried

to chase the sunlight

lie asleep.




All content is Copyright 2020 TA Boland

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