Nights Like These

On these crisp winter nights
When the chill presses
On your bones,

When the moonlight
is filtered through
dense grayscale layers
Of wispy clouds hanging
Just overhead

Moving
at a slow clip.

On these nights you forget
Your gloves
And have to hide your
Hands in your jacket cuff

While you walk
You feel like your
Legs and the ground
Are one and the same

And you fear that
You’re floating
Or your legs are melting
Back into the earth.
Nights when you
Can feel the weight of
Your reaching
Loosening
In your chest.

These are the nights
You’ll reach for tomorrow.

Author: Buddhadoshā

Buddhadoshā loves you.

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