It is night again, no deed of wonder
as the sun clock’s her departure time
for normalcy to take over extra shift;
the moon peeks out head first, cocking
his eyebrow at a dullard world, shifting
in drabs from brown - to grey - to black.
He dominates the black with his frame,
robust, radiant, glorious; striding man
fully to his rightful throne. Reclining
into the night, arms go lazily over head
blinking away sleep’s impish fingers
strumming symphonies on his lids.
The moon blinks, hopelessly imposing
rank on sleep while drooping ample
weight on the night’s squinting eye.
Sheikha A. is from Pakistan and U.A.E. and often finds herself in a world of oscillation that most of the times motivates her writing too. She maintains a (or tries to) blog on sheikha82.wordpress.com.