Longest Night
It is still dark outside.
Still but for water pouring,
cascading down the steep,
wooded slope.
No rain now, nor wind.
The world turns and breathes
gently, mildly.
I would like to tread the
saturated earth
but must do it from here,
from the warm house,
where I cannot slip or
slide or fall.
It is still dark, but for a
pool of yellow lamp-light inside.
Steph Power is a poet, writer and composer living in mid-Wales with poetry appearing in the Cannon’s Mouth, the Journal and Poetry Wales. She has published articles and reviews in a wide range of journals and blogs at: www.philosovariant.blogspot.com