Do you know the night phantoms?
The shades that grow strange in Autumn?
Oh, you must know the ones—
the swirling spirits of once-living leaves
giving the air its static sound,
the clouds clicking through the branches
guarding the harvest moon from prying eyes.
They’re glimpses of a world the sun
can never know. Finally free from his burning eye
the very air sighs with relief
and shows its gratitude in nights that need
a sweater’s embrace.
I let the taste of cloves pirouette off my tongue
in a smoky hiss as the veil grows ever thinner.
Soon, new ghosts will fill these streets:
of innocence, of childhood, all lost to me now.
And still I smile, for I know the night phantoms well.
Category: Poetry, SNHU Creative Writing, SNHU online creative writing