Voices in the night.

Now the only voice I hear

The voice inside my head

I am a poem, write me so I may be read.


In the darkness of an autumn night

When raindrops roll from window pane

I am formed.


Write me before I am gone

Like clouds drifting across the moon

Voices travelling away.


Write me before I am gone

Like ships that pass in the night

No trace remains at daybreak.

(c) Chris Black. November 2017.



Soundcloud @ Chris Black 36

Youtube @ chris black-poetry-spoken word

Twitter @ CJBLACK2012