"Insomnia"

Outside the wind blows as it has never blown before,
soft and sensuous, caressing the trees like death,
the ground yearning upwards to touch the moon
in an orgy of darkness till the trees grow jealous
and the wind lies down to sleep long years in stillness,
no sound, no rustling leaves, no bitter cold, no warmth,

only emptiness like a kiss from a less-favored aunt,
lips cool on your cheek, no kiss at all, vampirish,
like the full moon in autumn when the leaves fall,
cloaking the ground with death, rustling death,
the sound a nightmare makes when the wind walks softly,
oh, so softly, by.

Stifler, Bill. "Insomnia." Written Tales (Vol. 2), Fall 2020. (originally in Phoenix, ChattState, Vol. 9., 1994-5)

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