What 3 a.m. Becomes

Lake Eola


“That night was a dark day. Of course, all nights are dark days, because night is simply a badly lit version of day….”

― Lemony Snicket


Cries in the dark no

longer feral – sky no

longer dark well

after dusk.  Our stars,

once rulers now faded

as our gods.


Night, this millennium

remains torturous

to those without sleep.







12 thoughts on “What 3 a.m. Becomes

  1. Wow. Well done, takes us into the deeper regions of the night, where night itself has attenuated. And the millennium of sleeplessness – so good, except sorry you are up so late and can’t sleep! But if we get poems like this, what price?


  2. Firstly, that picture is a haunting bit of perfection for your poem. Excellent choices on your end words (no/no/faded/gods) and phrasing (longer dark well.) This is so evocative of 3 AM!


  3. Pingback: Portofino, 3AM – qbit

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