Dark nights snuff out dusky gunpowder skies
dogs bark coded messages to each other,
a sort of Morse Code “I see someone, I see someone”
or “They won’t let me in, and I am cold”
as darkness consumes their kenneled or chained world
Children lie awake in crib and bunk bed
gasping at queer sleepyland shadows on the wall,
with only bed and blankets for protection
While mothers sooth them with safe soft words
Sibling fight, words have ethereal edges
in the absence of light, lovers cradle themselves
in a warm web of tangled arms and legs
under shields of sheets endlessly proving their love.