A NIGHT SONG

(APRIL-25)  

                                          

Lisa Gordon Photography

 

I love nights

When it smells jasmine

And moths fly

I love moths

When they rush to taste light

I love dreadlocks

They are my banyans

Under which

I lay my head and sleep

In the day

From the arched door

A face emerges

She comes and tells me

“I am your mother”

I don’t know her

But her eyes are tearful

And what’s a mother anyway?

Posted for Artistic Interpretations with Margaret – Willard Asylum @ Real Toads