Nights With No Glimmer Of Moon

Nights With No Glimmer Of Moon short poem

Photo by It’sGreg

Nights with no glimmer of moon
In your half-silvered mirror
Anonymity silhouettes fading memories

Ages ago I was a child trapped
In the nightmare clutches of scorn and penury
And playmates I had but few

I half-remember of an early evening
A short play-reach of a half-lit house
The anonymous mother of an anonymous friend

Called out hello and gave
As would Mother Teresa to an impoverished boy
A little something of a treat to eat

My rat eyes gleamed
A chocolate-coated nut it was she gave me
My first taste of chocolate

The years of unpunctuated poverty
Broke into dawns with a small glimmer of moon
In which I remember only her anonymity

And like one now disabused
Of the terrifying clutches of a cataplectic* dream
I gratefully remember naught else

* of sleep paralysis

Rate the poem
1 Star2 Stars3 Stars4 Stars5 Stars (1 votes, average: 3.00 out of 5)
We are posting your rating...

Have something to say about the poem?

Poems you will love

Give your feedback / review for the poem

Be the First to Comment & Review poem!

Notify of

No Roof For Reindeer

No Roof For Reindeer elegy

Page 1. the celebrated sailing frog from Montgomery County went a court’n, or so the tale iz toad to a grand ole mansion built around 1910, and e’en ‘pon being razed ~2012 ah no dummy sea worthiness still plainly showed,

Moon Beams

Moon Beams short poem

Catching moon beams, walking on crystal air, gliding over the ocean, full of love,without a care. Sliding on a rainbow, jumping on to a star, fire racing across the water, as i drag moon beams on the way. Moon beams

Apathy No More

Apathy No More short poem

Clip not the wings of imagination Let it fly its uncharted way Yield now and then to temptation Let the spirit be free and gay Suit not the action to the image Fresh be your speech, and acts new How

No More

No More sonnet poems

I thought it belonged to only I, But you have claimed it for yourself. You say I should hurry up and die, That I’m only good for killing myself. I don’t wish to hear you, But you stole my hands.

No Rescue

No Rescue short poem

Civil war: Again you are visiting the childhood.A green pond. Smoke filled eyes ask, what was a home? A black city of white hills. You were climbing on dreams to reach a baby moon. And the night was very long,