Poem: Every Even⎯ing Has Its Singing

Every evening has its singing—
Its necessary silence;
Unexpected chill.

Every evening has its turning—
Its closing or finishing;
Its covering up.

Every evening has its warm familiar comfort
Just before fading music leads into the fall…

(Dreams like scars are curving inward at the soul
as a single spider sits on a recessed mountain range.)

Every evening has its turning star;
And its disappearance—
Its plans for the wounded animal in the woods.

Every evening has its favorite magazine or book,
Its lamp just out of reach.

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About genemyers

Gene Myers is a New Jersey poet, music journalist and columnist who learned to walk twice. His weekly column is called The Joy of Life. He was awarded first place in Arts and Entertainment Writing by The New Jersey Press Association.
This entry was posted in poem, poem by Gene Myers, Poems from Eyedark and tagged , . Bookmark the permalink.

4 Responses to Poem: Every Even⎯ing Has Its Singing

  1. mariana says:

    Beautifull poem, but it is too optimistic for this moment in my life, I whish I could connect more to it.

  2. S.L. Corsua says:

    An enjoyable read. I most liked the penultimate stanza; the line about evening having “plans for the wounded animal in the woods” fuels my imagination with what-ifs. 😉

    Cheers.

  3. Lindsay says:

    Hella awesome.

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