By Gina Elliott
The sun burned in envy,
when the night wed the moon,
adorned in stars,
with the Milky Way her bridal gown,
A hush enveloped her midnight blue skies,
she sighed with the swallows’ twilight flight
as she reclined over the earth,
the setting sun still mourned lost love.
Her darkness is not to be feared,
but is a comforter,
The music of her silence
lulls the lonely and the grieving to sleep,
as the cat’s eyes glow in the moonlight as he creeps,
Nightfall singers blend with the angels’ rhapsodic trumpets.