I PREFER THE NIGHT

I prefer the night

with existence limited by the electric light

and the slow movement of the

hands of an old clock,

whose ticking measures

only its own mechanical heart-beat,

not time.

No, time is an

ankle-deep brook barely flowing

through the sheltering

blackness of the night,

and the pale yellow light

of my guiding star

is whispering:

'Stay.

There is nowhere to go.

Wait, and then

before light flares

outside drawn curtains,

sleep and race through time

to meet me again.'

11.02.-18.02.2020