Silver Night


When night is here, and not the cat,
sleep opens –
a fissure in the armor

I lie
inside a slower breath

When the Silver Cat sleeps elsewhere,
I fall among wild animals,
closing their eyes in secret,
letting go –

like a skydiver
from a Cessna 208 Caravan

The door ajar:
a sandal-width
held against closure

so he may enter
later in the dark

And he comes! –
a shadow
across the floor

soundless ascent –

a warmth between my knees,
a five-kilo trust
finding its curve

I turn –
flying, fetal,
chagallesque –

my closed face
gazing
into the room’s irreproachable mystery,

clothed in floor,
walls,
ceiling –

a silent storm
of worlds




Poetry by Ingvar Loco Nordin The PoetBay support member heart!
Written on 2026-03-27 at 11:16

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