Nightlife by Stella Wulf

 


Stella Wulf’s poems have appeared in Obsessed With Pipework, The High Window, Riggwelter, Prole, Ink Sweat & Tears, The New European, The Sentinel Quarterly (placed third in comp 2013), and other publications. Anthologies include The Very Best of 52three drops from a cauldron, Clear Poetry, NILVX A Book Of Magic, and #MeToo. She has an MA in Creative Writing, from Lancaster University. Stella is co-editor of 4Word Press who published her first pamphlet, After Eden, in May 2018.


 

 

               

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

           

 

 

Nightlife

 

After night’s fall, when the bruised day dies,

we are unfaithful sleep, minds uncloseted,           

skeletons through which the wind sighs.

 

I am the shoulder on which the night cries,

the furrowed brow, a breast pearled in moonlight.

After night’s fall, when the bruised day dies,

 

voles tremble, mice quake, owl’s fancy flies,

moon slick as cream robes the limbs of trees,

skeletons through which the wind sighs.

 

I am the realm that never sleeps, tapetum of eyes

bristle of whisker, whiff of musk, the dank bite,

after night’s fall, when the bruised day dies.

 

I am the burning holes in a pocket of sky,

a bolt—a halt—the lightning strike on asphalt,

skeletons through which the wind sighs.

 

We are the foxtrot, moonwalk, shadow-dance prize,

cradles of flesh and bone rocked by chance,       

after night’s fall, when the bruised day dies,

skeletons through which the wind sighs. 

 

Stella Wulf

 

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