December 7th Poem by Andrew Lockley

On the night of December...at twelve past the midnight
edged close to my ledge as i tire,
and peer at the frost that dusted in white
lies a half hearted moon...that soon shall retire.
It's yellowing dim like the head of a lamp
around subtle clouds that yellowed the same,
while my slow tiring blinks see then that it sank
behind that street chimney it came.
Stillness it lay for much past the midnight
and frost flourished cars silvered and shone,
now was morn of the 7th...the few words I write
and tire on my pillow at fifth past the one...