David Selzer is a writer of poetry, prose fiction, screenplays and stage plays. He embraces digital platforms to share his work of more than fifty years… READ MORE


  • SAFELY THROUGH THE DARK

    At twilight from the hills across the Straits, a sudden

    drift of smoke – then a fire’s deep orange eye blinked.

    We talked of cruising the Nile; of moon rise and sun set,

    of the narrow compass of the earth’s curve;

    the river pilots’ open armed, hand-on-heart salaams;

    and the stars rushing through the night.

     

    Later and sleepless in the early hours,

    I kept watch at the bedroom window.

    The hotel sign lit a faded Union flag,

    threadbare at its outer edges.

    The only hint of the far shore was

    sporadic lights on the A55.

     

    But the stars were unequivocal. In a cloudless,

    unpolluted sky, how they teemed!

    I saw the constellations pass

    and the random magnificence of things revealed.

    Understandably, you preferred to sleep.

    And journey safely through the dark.

     

     

    Note: The poem was originally published on the site in October 2009, under the title, BULKELEY HOTEL, BEAUMARIS, YNYS MÔN –  https://davidselzer.com/2009/10/

     

     

     


    One response to “SAFELY THROUGH THE DARK”


    1. Laurie Corzett Avatar

      Nursery Song

      Scooping up the cornucopia of experience
      gently nestled in moonbeams
      at peace in a lullaby
      easily descending
      into the world of lights and pain
      too bright, too loud, too cacophonous
      to embrace whole.
      Whisp whispers shhh, whispers
      of ideas, harnessed light,
      well-structured challenges
      ease into bits by bits
      hypnotic meme streams
      world stories
      of clearly constructed grammar
      sharing common tongue
      that we may ease our fractured
      anxious turbulence
      in chorus of soothing nursery song.
      See, we are the progeny of heroes.
      Hear the laughter of the Almighty
      among hosts of angels
      here we are home.
      Sweet, splintered home.
      Here we learn to serve the giants,
      give piously abased homage
      to the slingers of arrows
      that could rend us
      bit by bloody bit.
      No wonder we sing louder,
      dance jerkily on starched,
      bleached strings.
      Wouldn’t we agree to anything
      that we be allowed
      to sleep
      just a few aeons more.

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