The Night’s Day

darkness consumes

my realm of vision

for my sun rises

simultaneously to

the crescent moon.


the howling of

the passing cars

in the distance

filters the choir

of birds both

posted up on alpha waves,

while others decide to

blend their desolate chirps

within the passing wind chills

of the purple sky.


there’s placement

for anything and everything.

there’s validity in one’s purpose,

even if we fail in constant repetition

in attempting to search for it…


sometimes you need

to stop looking in order

to clear your eyes with clarity.


E. Eliot, USA

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