Jar of Night
Jar of Night
Each evening I grasped wakefulness,
child's hands against the glass,
until hidden birds had Whip-poor-willed
from folds of forest shadows.
I have preserved the song, the darkness,
in a solution of memory,
as I have been powerless to preserve
the Whip-poor-wills,
the forest,
both gone from the place I knew,
as am I.
Drunken laughter and
harsh repetition of bass
reverberate though lingering streetlight evening -
no lullaby as,
thoughts pressed against the barrier,
I reach towards sleep.
A Whip-poor-will is a variety of nightjar, a kind of bird. You can listen to a Whip-poor-will's song here.
Each evening I grasped wakefulness,
child's hands against the glass,
until hidden birds had Whip-poor-willed
from folds of forest shadows.
I have preserved the song, the darkness,
in a solution of memory,
as I have been powerless to preserve
the Whip-poor-wills,
the forest,
both gone from the place I knew,
as am I.
Drunken laughter and
harsh repetition of bass
reverberate though lingering streetlight evening -
no lullaby as,
thoughts pressed against the barrier,
I reach towards sleep.
A Whip-poor-will is a variety of nightjar, a kind of bird. You can listen to a Whip-poor-will's song here.