How really eerie becomes the inky night, <br />Which street lights illuminate with pitiful glow, <br />Revealing alien shadows in swift flight, <br />And ghostly noises that echo 'in vacuo'. <br /> <br />Night gradually darkens all this world of ours, <br />Silence reigns, except for nature's cries, <br />The elements engage us, with their salient power, <br />And far flung stars sit quietly in the skies. <br /> <br />Whistling winds, down alleys, wing their way, <br />Hats fly off, and umbrellas invert with ease, <br />On pavements, the homeless, with nowhere to stay, <br />Curl up in cardboard boxes, and slowly freeze. <br /> <br />Between those hours of sunset and the dawn, <br />A fox sneaks out in search of needed fare, <br />To hunt until the awakening of the morn, <br />Returning thence, to cubs within her lair. <br /> <br />Whilst we sleep, nocturnal creatures stir, <br />The bat, the owl, the cat, all stalk abroad, <br />They have no fear of darkness, they prefer <br />This sunless land, which, they have long explored. <br /> <br />How really eerie becomes the inky night, <br />When street lights illuminate with pitiful glow, <br />We awake to sunshine and the gentle light, <br />But all was darkness and existed 'an initio'. <br /> <br />© Ernestine Northover<br /><br />Ernestine Northover<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-inky-night/
