Sometimes night is night and stands around our house
like a loitering crowd in dark coats, waiting for lamps
to die and moths to seek other stars or settle ash wings
against inside screens, wanting that broader, wide sky.

Other times night is a great black horse, hard-worked
and foamed at the bit, his spittle captured by Hubble’s
stare and galloped to dreamers here on earth, nebulae
herds of painted ponies and appaloosa comet tails.

And we ride with these faces pressed into his lathered
neck, fingers of one hand holding fast to a feathered
mane.  Between our legs night’s power pumps, its dark   
moving apace to cross a turned line of horizon.

And sometimes, lifting our heads from sleep to light
we find a moth on the screen who waits, not lost.

Must be something in the spring
                                            water
that has so many of us writing in sonnet-form lately. Hope y'all are saving something for the corona.

How can you go wrong with this one: stars and nebulae and Hubble pictures of deep space objects...and the waiting moth.

Could the moth be lost instead of waiting?

larry

I like lost as much as I like waits, larry.  Maggie

I think it's extraordinary.

not sure about lost . . . but am thinking about using  "dock" or "docked" somehow.
i never get the feeling those moths of morning screens are lost; i think of them as waiting for the next bright attraction they can be drawn toward, docked, in a sense.

thanks bob, larry, mags, el vee. 
not sure who moved this, but thanks you.

ld

yous welcome

thought i'd post original here as I've made a change to end line. 

ld

Thought I'd post the revision here as I love the change to end line. Magnificent, Lynn. The face in lathered neck, the couplet. The poem has given night, I meant to say, but yes, light too--new romance for me. Tom

thanks, tom.  the new last line doesn't work for me, but i haven't figured out what to do with it yet.  [the 'we find' later followed by 'neither found' was unintentional and reads off to me now.  ah well. 

ld

The waiting moth was mysterious, like he was hanging round just to see what would happen.

I liked him.

I did too.  Might get put back, but will give another 'night' of thought first.  Thanks, el.  You know what?  I think I'll change it back now, as it's my preference over new one at the moment; I can always change in a new direction if I think of something better.  Yeah. 

true, true :)

Lynn, your poem is like the horse you describe.  Sounds odd, or too easy--me saying that, but it fits so well.

Surely there's a name for this kind of phenomenon--some kind of unity?

Beautiful, awesome poem,
cheryl

thanks, cheryl.  i don't know what it is with horses lately.  i've used them twice in recent poems and it's been fifty years since i rode a horse everyday.  and thirty years since i've been on one.  but there's something, true, when the rhythms of horse and rider are in sync [so i take your compliment in a very good way!].  have to say, that last time i was on a horse, 'sync' was not the word I'd use to describe how it went ;).

ld

Love it, Lynn, despite the sore arse it's given me!

milner

aw, now.  I am sorry for that sore arse -- but pleased the ride pleased you.

ld

don't know how I missed this one
but I absolutely love it, Lynn


Stella

Thank you!  Glad, very glad, you found it, Stella.

ld

Love this. Will certainly keep it in mind come front page time.

In this stanza, felt final line needed more count....maybe.....

mane.  Between our legs night’s power pumps darkly,   
moving to cross a turned horizon with its hoarded stars.

Thanks, D.  I added 'its' before 'dark', wanting to keep the entity of night/dark/horse as the power, but adding the beat in that line; also changed the endline, adding 'line of' between 'turned' and 'horizon'.

Love when you visit my stuff.  Thanks much.  ld

this wouldn't be the work it is, but for the help of editors here and suggestions to help me work 'night' into its current revision.  thanks, D, Larry, Tom -- every one with a kind word or idea to improve.  Thank you.

Rick, i'm honored and surprised and grateful beyond words.  thanks so much.  lynn

there's a romance surrounding horses,
they were our beloved sports cars
and dependable 4x4s before someone
found this stuff burns with a pop!

i love the imagination you display
weaving the dark, the heavens,
outerspace and horses together;
like they were always meant to be so.
 

Wow, Lynn.  I read this silently, and the hair stood up all over my head.  just the impcat (loved this typo so much I left it!)Sorry just the impact of your words through my eyes to my brain...It is perfect...Please, could you put it on Buddah's site so I can hear you read it? 

Re-read, re-loved your horse and moth, Lynn. Seeing you on front page for some reason called up the image of a figurehead. Proud to have you as ours, this week! Congrats, Tom

Some very powerful phrases in here, Lynn. Between our legs night's power pumps, its dark moving apace to cross.. very wonderful--also brings up the image, for me, of the new moth pumping fluid into its wings. I like the use of painted ponies in a poem about night and I like the first line a lot. Sometimes night is night and stands around our house--so casual and frank and lets the reader know that night is not always this loitering crowd--sometimes.... I think this is a fantastic poem and is rightly a front page poem.

Belongs on Front Page!

Most powerful, moving S for me:
     And we ride with these faces pressed into his lathered
     neck, fingers of one hand holding fast to a feathered
     mane.  Between our legs night’s power pumps, its dark   
     moving apace to cross a turned line of horizon.

Scott -- thanks for your kind words.  Yes, sometimes I think about those people who lived at the beginnings of things, before a horse was labeled a "horse" or constellations attached to mythical heroes and heroines, and how alive the night must have seemed ... and what did they think dreams actually were?  know what I mean?


Sue -- you "imp cat" you -- thanks for leaving that typo in your comment.  And thanks so much for your comment and suggestion to do an audio and post with buddah.  [Have forgotten how to do that; maybe Lavonne will share the secrets with me again?]

Tom -- thanks for stopping back in.  Have been thinking about trying a companion poem to this one, a "Day" poem, perhaps using that moth.  Must google moths and learn more first.  Appreciate your kind thoughts on this one.

Jill -- thank you!  It pleases me no end to read your comments here.  And your knowledge of moths [see note to Tom above] is part my trigger to want to write a companion poem on "Day" -- You may be my muse, kiddo.

Ah, Lavonne -- do you know how much I appreciate you.  thanks!  lynn

And rick -- thank you again for this honor.

lynn

Ok can't help this:

When you learned to POST you not only learned to ride in sync with a horse's gait but also to entertain us with your wit.

Fantastica escritura  Ms. Lynne.  ;D Glad  its the first thing i see these days  ;D Felicidades on your selection  ;D
JMG

I love the lengths of the lines. Wonderful poem Lynn; but then, you knew that.

James

I like the final image of the moth, it is haunting.

Thank you, Jose!  I am glad you are glad!  I am looking forward to hearing your work!

And James, thank you.  Appreciate your comments.  yes, i do like this poem [not always the case!]

Andrew!  You have been missed around here.  Thanks for the look and for liking the moth.  They are curious creatures to me.

lynn