nighttime

The night creeps in by subtle degrees while a show of fierce colors attracts and distracts me. I look up, suddenly aware of remote lights scattered overhead. I gasp as the last streak of fire dies on the horizon, and I comprehend it all too late. That crafty, dark night has swallowed my world whole.

When the rain finally abates, I decide to wait out the night instead of trying to climb in the dark.

I'm just an insomniac struggling for a night where I don't dream of you anymore.

. . . a wind howling began, which seemed to form all over the country, as far as the imagination could grasp it through the gloom of the night.

When I see the promotion of nighttime street lighting to the masses, I realize the great level of incompetence that is present in governments, human health and the biological effects of light.

Shadows could be anywhere in blackness. (Eric)

When reality and your dreams collide, typically it__ just your alarm clock going off.

Nothing is so lovely as a quietly snoring dog and some evening Brahms, as you sit in a comfortably overstuffed chair with your feet on the footstool.

Because at nightwhen others are sleeping, I drown myself in poetry.

I slept under the moonlight and set my soul free, caged within jars like fireflies".

I__e always loved the night, when everyone else is asleep and the world is all mine. It__ quiet and dark__he perfect time for creativity.

I didn't intend to go in that direction but strange things happen when the lights go out.

I dream of a small room and a man with one eye. Blood seeps like scarlet tears from his empty socket. I turn away and the room becomes a hallway that becomes a stairway that becomes a roof. The wind tugs at my body; the sky tries to wrap me in stars. Below me, a gazebo glows with red light. A line of black cars crawls like cockroaches through the streets. An air conditioner exhaust fan chitters angrily near the roof__ edge, one of its blades bent just enough to scrape against the side of the casing. For a second I let the wind push me close enough to the fan__ razor- sharp blades that a lock of my hair gets snipped and sent out into the night. As it twists and flutters toward the gazebo, I think about just letting go, letting the breeze carry my body into the whirling blades, the wind scattering pieces of me throughout the city. Blood and flesh seeping into the cracked pavement. Flowers blooming wherever I land.

When we humans learn how to analyze the messages of the nighttime we open ourselves up to manifest our greatest selves.

The water glittered under the moon__ careful watch, and, in the distance, steeples cut stark black silhouettes into the landscape of the distant city.

But tonight is a gusty, hurrying night . . . even the clouds racing over the sky are in a hurry and the moonlight that gushes out between them is in a hurry to flood the world.

Night was come, and her planets were risen: a safe, still night: too serene for the companionship of fear.

All vampires are brothers in the brotherhood of night!