Poetry Monday: The Nighttime Alive and Rose
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    Photo by Weiss Weiss on Flickr, licensed under Creative Commons.

    The Nighttime Alive
    by Rachel Hoffman

    Subtle, those sounds,
    Of the nighttime alive.
    Curtain flutters window shutters wind
    slinks through a wire screen and the
    street lights twinkle, bright.
    They smile. Slender fingers wound
    tightly around his arm,
    sweatered and buttoned and scarred.
    They count their steps.
    Tip-toeing through tense
    tree root-ravaged cement
    in slowed time
    to the warped rhythm of the nighttime alive.
    And each leaf sways to that
    penetrating hum. Windy thumbs
    bend branches, tango
    with twig and vein.
    That rustle,
    quick, hushed,
    tangling her silken strands,
    strangling her heart-
    as his blood sings the song
    of the nighttime alive.

    by Felicia Spahr

    Rose, your life is but a simple one
    You basking in the sun
    Glorious rays shine down on you
    What could you be unhappy about?
    Ah, you dread the day that your well will dry out
    You will no longer be desired and lusted after
    Your allure is gone
    Your life is a short one
    And all you did with your time was stand still
    Waiting for the day your petals would shrivel

    Were you happy, Rose?


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