January 17, 2022


March Midnight Window


March Midnight Window

Cold glass.
One white palm against
a March midnight window.
The hour is struck.
In blackness, an indistinct
day is made another.

Clouds seclude the moon. To
any rare nocturnal souls at other windows,
the lithe, pale "L" of my hand might be
an alabaster letter,
a sign to other sleepless.

Each, in eisegesis,
divines its meaning in
their own midnight hearts --
whether love or loss I do not know.

© 2015 Eric Robert Nolan

Article © Eric Robert Nolan. All rights reserved.
Published on 2020-03-23
Image(s) © Sand Pilarski. All rights reserved.

2 Reader Comments

01:59:24 PM

This is a good poem for today's issues. All those social distancing souls...signalling to each other. A spooky one!

Eric Robert Nolan
08:37:39 PM

Thanks, Harris! I thought the timing was fortuitous too!

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