Nights pitchblack as pitch in the seams of the planks of boats on a starlit sea,
When you walk in a garden
With hands out in front in case you walk into a tree.
Where stars let you grope over rocks at the beach with blind eye -
And then the moon rises
Like the sunlit reflecting rock that it is. Then you can see. Can see why.
Why I miss the dark.
Published online: Snakeskin (UK), November 2015