Tracks of a Wandering Mind

Poetry, stories and random thoughts from a wandering mind.

Dread Night

(Some nights are long and slow, and some are worse. In terza rima form.)

I wait within the grip of a long night,
And hear again the ceaseless marching sound
Of a clock that will not aid time’s quick flight,

Where each slow moment weighs my spirit down
Until I can no longer hope to see
That sweet relief as daylight comes around.

I watch instead a clock that hears no plea,
But marshals every moment one by one
While I await the rising sun’s relief,

Which tells me that another night is done,
That finally the dreaded night has fled
And the hope of a new day has now come.

Remember though when evening sky turns red,
That you know that you still have night to dread.


November 13, 2011 - Posted by | Poetry | ,


  1. hey you know who i am, love this just like i love you.
    love you this much

    Comment by Anonymous | November 13, 2011 | Reply

    • Yup! Thank you for stopping by Sis, and I’m glad you found something you liked!

      Comment by Brady | November 13, 2011 | Reply

  2. Had those nights, but you put it into words I never found. Great stuff.

    Comment by heartspurs | November 13, 2011 | Reply

    • Thank you! This came from my last session with the insomnia monster…LOL

      Comment by Brady | November 13, 2011 | Reply

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