Where the vines tangle
in the forest of night
in the intimate darkness
where only the silence
whispers out loud
sorrow stalks me
today melting away
then like waves
rolling into tomorrow
I feel its pull
a sad song winds out
through the weeping rain
a lonely nightingale
calls in his despair
farewells the fleeing night
spills his sorrowful song
and anthems me
most mournfully
filling the wells of my soul
to the edge of the empty sky
© Ann Bagnall
Annie's Poetry 