Study: Day, Night, Rain

I like when it's quiet, 
when the rain has passed

but there's enough water
still coating the leaves

so my face gets drenched
when I walk under them.

I like when the dark
presses on my lids

in a quiet room
after everyone has gone

to sleep, and I like
the sudden flare

that sharpens the contours
of lamps and desks and chairs

when I open my eyes again.
In summer, when night

comes over the town after hours
and hours of steady blazing,

small winged creatures rise
in a frenzy when someone

opens the door. I've seen
them: some with wings and bodies

as if pieced together from
squares: white, orange, bright

yellow. Each one outlined as if
in kohl, or soldered by night.


In response to an entry from the Morning Porch.

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