For My Friend Berne Smith

The Night

Look at a frozen tree in winter’s night

or a purple face of a flower

you’ve seen in the light

Who isn’t at awe with the night?

its peculiar thrum rousing fright

in valor’s heart

I hear afar animal’s cry

eaten by a beast saved by Noah’s Ark

Not going out to help

maybe because of a dread in my heart

or maybe that I don’t care a whole lot…

And then there are words

that come down at night

each bigger than an eye and its sight

staring me down to write 

with a goad only I recognize

I refuse, but I can see nothing right

I pick up a pen that writes with no effort at all

with a foreknowledge that all things

 will fall apart

courtesy of the Marriott, San Antonio

where my friend died

for no reason that I find

Looking for a logic or a rhyme

a purpose for delight or a loss

but the answer belies

those woeful eyes that wonder into the dark.

Behrooz Ghorbanian

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