Night

Night

A Poem by Whiles

Night—

long past when the

jazz piano’s been locked

safely in the billiard room;

tall, long shapes

throw firewood on the blaze.

Now the songs

creep slowly from

Jubilates to

torch songs,

and everyone can hear

the locomotive’s

wail.

© 2008 Whiles


My Review

Would you like to review this Poem?
Login | Register




Share This
Email
Facebook
Twitter
Request Read Request
Add to Library My Library
Subscribe Subscribe


Stats

102 Views
Added on September 24, 2008

Author

Whiles
Whiles

Northampton, MA



About
I want to know stuff about the world. more..

Writing
Iowa Iowa

A Story by Whiles