The Seduction of Dawn

the seduction of dawn
is that she is the beginning,
the harlot of infinite possibilities,
her hennaed fingers
inching forward slowly,
I close my eyes,
night’s hand is still warm
across my insomniac fears,
what was it
that damned moon
was warning me about?

Quadrille: a 44 word poem
Linked to the Dverse Poets (Prompt: Dawn)


Darkness stumbled in,
bruised and bleeding black;
there had been a collision, they said,
due west of the horizon,
with a stubborn day,
drunk on the fast lane,
unwilling to leave.

His wagon had tipped over;
dream shards scratched the purple sky;
sacks of sleep stretched and yawned,
floated away in passing cloud tubs;
but passion lay where it had fallen,
its mood deflated,
its eyes empty of need.

Light streamed in
through his shredded skin
seeking wide open eyes;
fevered minds tossed,
restive, awake,
in their solitary beds.

But this night
that has turned up empty-handed,
that cannot turn off the day;
what good can come of such a night
that left my last dream
on a starlit highway?


At midnight,
on my bookshelf,
alphabets crawl through the covers
to couple with insomniac words,
spawning new tales
in the fading moonlight.

Poetweet: Exactly 140 characters long including spaces and punctuation.