At this time of night
the silence is palpable and
the air is almost oppressive
thick and heavy
the way it is before the rain comes
My mind skitters
from thoughts of you
to thoughts of freedom from this self-imposed tyranny
this endless work that consumes my mind
my life
Briefly wonder
'is it arrogance if it is justified?'
the right of the intelligentsia and the merciless
to judge others of inferior intellect
even the brilliant need compassion
My thoughts of you will go unwritten
even as they haunt me
in the depths of the night and the clarity of the morning
The night creaks
and this darkness which has come before
will pass
as it has
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