Winter Night

Small creatures shiver in their lairs
While the full moon is strangled by the tree
Whose branches wrestle with the wind,
Scraping, groaning ceaselessly.

In deep discomfort, deprived of sleep,
I get up from my barren bed,
Draw back my curtains
And see the cold night bristle with stars.

poem by John Thorkild Ellison
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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