Poem2021-02-28T08:31:17+00:00

Last Night

By: Rebecca Walkins Randle

though it was mid-November,
it felt just like July.
the moon crept inside our souls
neglecting autumn's sky.

our laughter pierced the sultry air,
and echoed through the night.
midnight's dark and curious eyes,
were obscured from sight.

our bittersweet embrace,
held nocturnal power,
we condensed a hundred years of joy
into one last, desperate hour.

the sun oozed onto the horizon,
and spread omniscent rays,
our hearts, we carefully untangled
and went our seperate ways.