Reluctant Night

DesertWords

Night is long in coming.
Leaden gray clouds linger through
a colorless afternoon and gladly
surrender to the reluctant advances 
of evening.
The world is a slow motion movie
run at half speed.
Darkness, stalled somewhere between
El Paso and Yuma's sculpted
sand dunes, is disinterested and
unhurried by a breathless sky.
It is doubtful if stars will even show up.
The moon?  Anybody's guess.
Night, though, has always been unreliable,
ill mannered and temperamental.
I once knew a man who waited a 
week for night's arrival but finally gave up
and moved to Finland.

  • Author: DesertWords (Offline Offline)
  • Published: January 10th, 2019 08:42
  • Category: Unclassified
  • Views: 24
  • Users favorite of this poem: whisperingquill
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