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The Hopelessness of MidnightDonald IllichAs Night it was my honor to block light, to tell the stars it was time to show, for constellations to guide the sailors, alone and adrift, unsure they were loved. I never thought about Day's mission, the full force of its sun's brilliant rays. How it will sacrifice the black clouds for its goals, scatter their torn sheets into the bay. How it agrees to be lit red over the shore where the sky is fire, and everyone fears their homes are aflame. I wouldn't have wanted to trade places, to incur such violence over the earth instead of shadowing crime between its folds. I loved the silence before cities slept, the vacuum of the horizon surrounding towers and houses, streets and bridges. Give me the hopelessness of midnight instead of day after day of hope that leaves before it can be counted on. I'm proud to conquer everything but the grave, a wound in the world that's darker than anything I could create: a life missing where once it had glowed. Donald Illich Read Bio Author Discusses Poems |
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