Night
















A crow is flying by
and caws the little edges off the day
in evening away.

Night is crawling black from tree to tree,
his limit is the shadow
his nest is down the grave.

A crow is flying by
and caws the rest of sleep
into so wide awake.

The dark is mirroring fear
in open and behind the sleepy eyes

until in the morning
with the first crowing
the ghosts are gone again.

© Rudi J.P. Lejaeghere

09/11/2014

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