The tick and then the tock
Twelve solid times
From the preverbal clock

Echoes through the silent room
Making promises before
It shimmers off the moon

Then softly back again
To shine incandescent light
Flickering to soft refrain

Black silk encases softer skin
Promises love and bliss
Or something deeply akin

Somewhere between the dark
And the rooster’s bright call
Forget all else and make our mark

08/11/2013

Posted on 09/15/2013
Copyright © 2026 Shannon McEwen