The moon leans low,
whispering silvered
secrets to the stars.
They circle close,
a quiet congress of light,
sifting through
the hush of night.
Thoughts pass
in glints and flickers.
A soft breath
over sleeping hills.
Each star,
a shimmering code.
’til slowly,
darkness begins to pale.
And the meeting dissolves
at the gentle insistence
of dawn.
By Sarah © 2025
Sammi Scribbles, Weekend Writing Prompt: conference (59 words*)
*including title
Image credit Laura Makabesku
The darkness had finally shown itself. Though she’d tried to keep it at bay, it had edged its way out. It had been a fluttering of feathers; tickling at her conscience. Then, an unfurling of wings, covering her hope. She tried to hold it close, clutching it to her breast. Tried to absorb it back into her soul, where all things secret lay. But it was too late; she was exposed for all to see and she was terrified. Rolling up her shadow and searching for light, she could find nothing, but the black.
fallen from the light
the raven calls me again
shadows descending
By Sarah ©2017
Prompt: Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie, Photo Challenge #177; Colleen’s Weekly Poetry Challenge #47 – light and shadow; and also, Daily Post Daily Prompt: black
By Sarah 