John McDonald

Blogging about politics, life, and the web


December 11th, 2010

The quiet,

the silence,

not of peace and calm.

In the dark

of moon rise,

a black omen flies.

The fog rolls

and wind whirls

to silence broken.

A twig snaps

and heart booms

A leaf cracks

and heads swoon

What attacks in the darkest,

blackest dreams untold,

is just mist of fears

and imagination’s cold.

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *