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Poetry: Dark Nights, Light Squares

‘I feel my faded mind begin to roam’ — The Killers; Goodnight, Travel Well

A window’s light projected in the dark against a wall
Photo by Rick Davis on Unsplash

The room’s at the back of the house
Nearest to the woods, the fields,
The dark
Is the all-encompassing dark
of country nights.
Not a speck, not a shred,
of light.



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Cee Arr

Cee Arr

Writer, (book) blogger, reader, poet @ dorareads.co.uk , Queer, weird, bookish rebel. Welsh as a tractor on the M4. She/Her. Buy me a coffee @ ko-fi.com/ceearr