Last thing at night…


Listen to the foghorn moan─

pushing its throaty alarm

through the weight of night,

stilling the pulse of the day,

erasing all distinction.

Perhaps the unknown of its tone

comes straight from the gods

themselves, murmuring

their message in primal

sound. Tonight, its voice

grows louder, more enchanting

than in past, diving to the depths

of cosmic order, closing the doors

of perception before falling

on healing sands

in deep, dreamless sleep.

*   *   *

“Last thing at night…” poem and Saybrook lighthouse photo by Mary O’Connor © 2016

4 thoughts on “Last thing at night…

  1. Wonderful, wonderful, wonderful! As I began to read the first few lines, I thought to myself that this is another expressive “Mary poem”… and so it is! Thank you for sharing your talent!


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