In the Dark
Harold Bowes

on the yellow bike

tires turn
gathering darkness

a dark layer of sand
below the white

white mist

at the end of the street
a silver moon in a silver cloud

birds, flecks of black, dive
among stars

in the bedroom

a smooth face
in the dark window

a shadow crosses the floor
darker at the door hinge

in the hallway

a fan of light unfolds
on the dark wainscoting.