Dale Champlin, Nude with 2 Butterflies, Collage, 2021
The Riddle of Midnight
It might have been true,
the weeping when no answer came to my call,
but weeping at no reply
is no response at all.
The day has been long, rain-dark
color leaking off flowers in the garden.
There is no life
but in eyes that do not weep,
unlike the sky.
Weeping is vanity:
the heart watches from its corner
as the garden waits for daylight,
midnight unpopulated,
to see if anyone notices
the weeping,
the unanswered call,
who calls, who weeps,
whose tears seep through the walls.
________________________
Bruce Parker