The Poetry Snapshot: The Night Shift

Curtains pulled back to midnight,
And a stage of dancing stars.
Too brief, this autumn light.
Stolen, but never ours.

Ours was never a bite
into a crisp apple autumn sky.
A bright, chilled dewy cry.
No.

Ours was the brink of a buoyant horizon,
turned to shade in the blink of an eye.
Tied down by an emerging moon.
For one moment, the pulse in this room ceases,
as the death of day show steals our breath.

Welcome to The Night Shift.
Time drenched in thrifted emotions,
sharing silence in slow motion.
In the midst of darkness,
we create color.

Shadowed vision,
but you catch a broken smile
and words unspoken.
It’s always one touch forward,
but two thoughts back.

In my corner of nightfall
I set down all composure.
I’ve been here before,
been here often.
Moonbeams feel no pressure to enter my window,
for I can navigate transience with my eyes closed.