a poem for a sunday

Night Has a Voice
by: Mari Adkins
Spring 2006

I stood there
the wooden boards
beneath my feet
the night
around my body

It’s been much too long
since I’ve been
out in the night
tasted its mysteries
felt its embrace

The night has a voice
It speaks in a whisper
The night has a body
Its hands and fingers
are the wind

For the forest is long
and the night is deep
The rest is silence

disclaimer: poetry and fiction snippet content are my own original content. unauthorized reproduction of any post content, without prior written permission, is in direct violation of applicable copyright laws.


Author: Mari Adkins

Appalachian gothic fiction writer - my works reflect a love of literature flavored by the darkness and magic residing in these ancient mountains. In my spare time, I'm a Simmer, I tumbl, I journal, but I always have a very strange sense of humor. I have lived away from the mountains and lived deep in the mountains. I currently live in Central Kentucky with my lifepartner and his cat. The mountains, their culture, their superstitions, their particular magics, will always be in my blood.