If it were only night, <br />I’m sure the light wouldn’t move <br />as it does, instinctively <br />Carving out dark figures of a fear <br />The heart can only assume. <br /> <br />If it were only night, <br />I’d say it’s merely loneliness <br />rather than an actual nostalgic ache- <br />but what is actual? reason and logic? <br />not something that whispers wonderment <br />to lovers. <br /> <br />I think if it were only night, <br />I’d feel myself sinking into the sheets, <br />soft tissue of home, smells of mother, <br />flowers, rain and death, though not my own. <br /> <br />I’m an orphan, except I remember parents <br />long gone, in times <br />that move throughout my dreamscapes <br />casting shadow memorabilia <br />of an ancient war. <br />Growing up in the country, <br />walking through wheat fields at midnight- <br />I remember, the heat rising as if it were a second sun <br />sprung from the bowels of the earth- <br />I remember in my back yard. <br />there were stars I set a compass by- <br />and stepping out the front door <br />into a world I had never seen before, <br />except in dreams, I knew I couldn’t fly- <br />Though I remember, my heart was courageous <br />and my hands weren’t worn from possibility <br />to mere bone.<br /><br />Amberlee Carter<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/of-hours-spent-in-slavery-or-atlas-of-a-modern-w/
