Daily poem: August stanza 12


Sleeps the sun, sleeps the moon,

while shadows shift and grow,

and night comes into its own.

Is this how it will be,

when the world rolls into the dark,

a world of frozen shadows,

at the last?

Published by

Jane Dougherty

I used to do lots of things I didn't much enjoy. Now I am officially a writer. It's what I always wanted to be.

20 thoughts on “Daily poem: August stanza 12”

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