Middle of the Night

The Middle of the Night


A warm summer breeze slips through the chattering blinds,

Spiriting about my room, its lazy song penetrating and sublime.

Sitting atop my writer's table, a lazy moth checks his wings,

Joined by a tiny transparent spider, skating about in rings.

An odd gathering of migratory beings in the stillness of the night,

Convening to offer inspiration to my pen's nocturnal flight.

The distant voice of a night owl swooning with mournful repetition,

Soothes the flight of my fingers penning my nightly mission.