Midnight Riff Poem by Hugh Cobb

I'm writing with a purple pen,
air conditioner humming noisily,
blessed relief from July heat,
midnight ticking at the clock.
(Geraldo talks to Dennis Miller
or being in the line of fire...
just another cable re-run.)
Sky's a darker hue of purple,
color of midnight.

Full moon flirts with clouds:
pale orange orb breaks
into pure silver light.
Ice crystals blown away, fool gravity.
Sky looks cold. Imagining winter,
I shiver in summer's furnace,
imagining how your skin would feel
cool & hot,
how it would be touching you,
dancing
in midnight's hushed darkness
bodies pressed together spinning webs...
I lose myself in imagery.

Phone rings & it isn't you at all:
just another heavy breather.
I take a deep breath & scream
in silence.
It's midnight & the oasis
is just another mirage
fading as moon hides herself again
(shy Virgo) .
No stars obscure
this quiet brooding dark.
It's so still
I almost forget to breathe.
Midnight bears a new day:
a silent and unrequited birth.

(Copyright 3 May 2006)