An Eerie Night

The night seems strange to me somehow;
A slowly growing chill,
The smell of wood smoke, faint but clear,
A breeze that’s lost, and still,
The stars are cold and distant friends;
Aloof, though always near,
The mist is frayed, it’s here and gone,
Like laughter without cheer.
And yet within this eerie night,
Beneath the cheerless sky,
There is a spark of something else;
A joy that will not die,
A laugh that’s waiting to be heard;
A dream that still might fly.
As if, there, at the edge of night,
Lost love holds back a sigh…