Darkness

I miss the dark.
Nights pitchblack as pitch in the seams of the planks of boats on a starlit sea
When you walk in a garden
With hands out in front in case you walk into a tree.
Moonless nights
Where stars let you grope over rocks at the beach with blind eye -
And then the moon rises
Like the sunlit reflecting rock that it is. Then can you see. Can see why.
Why I miss the dark

Robin Helweg-Larsen

If you have any comments on this poem, Robin Helweg-Larsen would be pleased to hear from you.