The Burden Of Night

The day has collapsed like a tent folding to the ground –
all the warm air pressed out into the coolness of shadows,
where dew will weigh the backs of grass –
                                        a reminder of the burden of night...
As norturnal scavengers begin to move –
unseen but not unheard –
like the voices in a troubled mind.

Then back to the burrows and holes –
while the dew lifts as if attached to the sun.