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Walking Past Midnight (revision #3)

He runs ahead into the night.
The bodiless phosphorescence--

reflection of countless tiny stars
falling--covers the ground in light.

I follow dark stars in the snow
to an open field beyond trees;

we two, the only living beings
in sight. The unlit houses bare

faceless mirrors staring back
like a coven of somnambulists.

Reluctantly, I yell for him, afraid
I will awaken sleepers. We run,

instinctively, to the back door,
shaking the snow from our bodies.

Shoe and paw prints disappearing,
a moment's presence buried.



Walking Past Midnight (revision #2)

He runs ahead into the night.
The bodiless phosphorescence--
reflection of countless tiny stars
falling--covers the ground in light.

I follow dark stars in the snow
to an open field beyond trees;
we two, the only living beings
in sight. The unlit houses bare
faceless mirrors staring back
like a coven of somnambulists.

Reluctantly, I yell for him, afraid
I will awaken sleepers. We run,
instinctively, to the back door,
shaking the snow from our bodies.
Foot and paw prints disappearing,
a moment's presence buried.



Walking Past Midnight (new title per workshop suggestion)

He runs ahead into the night.
The bodiless phosphorescence
is a reflection of countless tiny stars
falling, covering the ground in light.
He's not listening to my entreaties.

I follow dark stars in the snow
to an open field beyond trees;
we two, the only living beings
in sight. The unlit houses bare
faceless windows staring back
like a coven of somnambulists .

Reluctantly, I yell for him, afraid
I will awaken sleepers. We run,
instinctively, to the back door,
shaking the snow from our bodies.
Behind us foot and paw prints
disappearing, a moment's presence
buried in the silent depths of winter.

Hi Billy,

Don't mention "dog" in the title; allow the reader to discover that in the course of the content. Just "Walking" as title.


He runs on ahead.
The reflection of countless falling stars
covers the ground in a phosphorescent lake.
He's too busy scouting
to be listening to my entreaties.


I follow
to an open field beyond trees.
The faceless windows on unlit houses,
like a coven of somnambulists staring
back at the only two beings in sight.


^^ or the metaphor "mirror" for "window"

The faceless mirrors on unlit houses,
like a coven of somnambulists staring
back at the only two beings in sight.


Afraid I will awaken sleepers, yet
I call to him again. We run,
home, to the back door,
and shake snow from our bodies,
leaving behind disappearing prints:

foot and paw



workshopping in the spirit of creativity



Michael (MV)

 
 
 
 
 
  
 

Thanks, Michael, yes the title idea is good. I will take into consideration your other workshop suggestions. Your end though, changes the focus of the poem for me. It changes the focus to the dog and then the poem merely becomes about the surprise of who my companion is.

Brilliant!