poetry by j matthew waters

the night is endless

the day grows weary
unrelenting heat
southern winds
falling sun illuminating
quarter-size moon
rising from the east

fearful to fall asleep
morning sun comes too soon
or maybe not all
incomplete images
shuttering and fluttering
like black and white
moving pictures

I keep the shades drawn
nearly all the way
save an inch or two
just enough room
to let the rooster look in

the night is endless
this much we know
instinctively we cling
to the morning light
and celebrate
for all it’s worth

july two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

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