Winter’s dark – Longer than Summer’s night

Not frying eggs, falling water.

Winter’s dark – Longer than Summer’s night

Crazy about all of Winter’s dark, as it’s longer than Summer’s night
Out here on an empty road, heading to cross where those sandhills rise
Through a silence that is never empty, following just ones own lights
On a track at a far way North, to where those clacking sounds clutter
Beneath an Indian-Pacific’s long ride, railed out making to a far east
Moving in tonight’s opposite directions, not chasing a sun out here to stay
Rather to be in amongst Winter’s dark, as it’s longer than Summer’s night.

4 responses to “Winter’s dark – Longer than Summer’s night

    • Yes, I agree, Julie, my writing tends to draw on them from time to time, perhaps a little too much at times. In some places, deep beneath the forests, jungles, ocean, earth, in the deepest places, darkness never ceases, stops, not for a moment, and still life lives there too.

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