AT MIDNIGHT
(From Pierre Reverdy)
All life has ended.
The spinning earth
has no eyes to see it,
no mind to reflect its devoured beauty.
Only the wind utters a sound.
It seems to be a sigh.
The innocent animals are dead.
All the birds have fallen from the heavens.
The sun is black, the moon is blood.
As the prophets said
stars have fallen from the sky.
A face peers over the horizon of the world.
A hand stops the earth.
Golden hair sweeps away clouds.
Like seeds in the wind
luminous souls are scattered
everywhere.
Blake Steele