I remember when we used to walk hand in hand
along a sandy road that led to North Sea dunes,
so deep into the night the lights had gone out
in all the houses; we were guided by a sky
full of stars and every time the moon
disappeared, a nosy neighbour behind a curtain
of cloud, we were overwhelmed by the darkness,
giddy with the mystery of the night – and us.
Back home in a cottage groaning with sea gales,
collecting salt like tears on its window panes,
we huddled together and shared tales,
hopes, dreams and a plate of cheese on toast
by a roaring fire: you and me, with a dog and a cat,
late at night, making plans and laying ghosts.
Kim M. Russell, 3rd April 2019
My response to Imaginary Garden with Real Toads Poems in April 3: Late night conversations with the muse, also linked to earthweal Open Link Weekend #63
Sanaa welcomes us to the third day in April with a lovely poem by Michael Faudet: ‘Late Night Coffee’. She invites us to write and share a poem about late night, what goes through our minds or appeals to us during the time when stars are somewhere behind the moodiness of clouds.