“Nightfall” by Trevor Jessop
some nights roll in
grab the ground
and refuse to let go
cop an attitude
daylight be damned
fuck the fiction of sunshine
its central conceit
that illusion of blue
when the truth is
the sky has no color at all
the bright light of the day
so pretty with pretense
serves only to show
ugly patterns of scars
the grim record of wounds
men inflict upon time
stark behaviors revealed
in the skin of their sin
worst of all is the cruelty
inherent in sunrise
its sharp yellow edges
with wanton abandon
decapitate dreams
murder sleep in its beds
night would never
give showcase to shame
never sully the lull
of a satiny moonglow
a softer world cast
in more delicate deep
chiaroscuro existence
a filtered reality set up
as time and as place
in which even the
artists of war take their rest
some nights roll in
in full rigor
of righteousness
make valiant stand
hold horizons as prisoners
intending that soul-weary
damaged mankind
sleep the sleep of the dead
for as long as it needs
to gain ethical healing
awake and emerge
all the better ingrained
with a newborn nobility
ah but alas in the end
notwithstanding the
strength of its virtue
sweet darkness of nightfall
must too soon and always
succumb to the blaze
of a merciless dawn
Poesy plus Polemics