This night is on fire
is one among millions,
is sparkling
with storm and sensations,
is death and damnation,
stillness and howling.
This night
is a night to remember,
is a night to pretend
it’s a night not forever.
This night is not owned
it’s shared with the ghosts
but we profess it’s still ours.
In the night by Marc Chagall
A 55 for hedge.
Running in the slow lane
The view from here ... Or here!
“Life is like riding a bicycle. To keep your balance, you must keep moving.” — Albert Einstein
chronicling my quarter life crisis
Now we see through a glass, darkly
rejuvenatement - not retirement
words and scribble.
The Quantumverse
Poetry, haiku. Life, word play, puns, free verse
About fantastical places and other stuff
Björn Rudbergs writings 
Really like that one Bjorn!
Thank you 🙂
Very nice! I really love when poets write their own words and not turn someone else’s work into their own by rearrangement of wording. Poets are smart, they recognise! So, good luck to you with words all your own! 🙂
Night has a magic the day never finds–I love the second, central stanza–time insists the night is not forever, but at least it does come back..here, that may not be a totally good thing. The mood set up in the first stanza you resolve nicely in those last lines. Thanks for adding your 55 to the mix, Bjorn.
As Hedge said, the middle stanza really hammers it home – but you’ve set it up and close it so well …. which just makes it pack this rocking, rhythmic punch …. I felt like I was well, let’s just leave it … yup — that middle stanza – it reads like the passion … great way to play with these words.
Ah yes, we still own the night indeed. It doesn’t last forever, but as long as it lasts it is ours!
Great close on this – it gives me pause: if we didn’t indulge ourselves in believing that we owned such entities as ‘the night’, I suspect poetry would suffer greatly ~ smiles ~
Chagall would no doubt approve.
I agree, the words go well with Chagall’s painting.
Wonderful and telling last stanza.