Night

As noughts and crosses we circle the city at night, pausing cold

to stare at the sky, on a breath the darkness fills the place inside us

where nothing ever happens. We might hope it’s only angels looks back, but it must

be history, and we follow the irrevocable pattern, the always empty search

for Orion’s Belt.  

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.