fbpx
You have 4 free member-only stories remaining for the month. Subscribe now for unlimited access

The Moon Still Shone Through the Shades

They lay there awake, far from sleeping

It was eight o’clock in the evening
Not a sound was to be heard
Not even the whispers of children
Sent to bed with never a word
Except for the family prayer
It would mark the end of the day
Blinds were drawn and downturned
And the moon still shone through the shades.

They lay there awake, far from sleeping
Til the youngest began to stir
That started some new game of guessing
Then a sound on the stairs could be heard
As if something dire would emerge
A shadow stood in the hallway
Not moving or speaking a word
And the moon still shone through the shades.

With the flip of a switch without warning
They covered their faces in search
Of a place they could hide from the blinding
Rays lit from the globe overhead
The moment they had most learned to dread
When the leather would make its way
To each caught alone in his bed
And the moon still shone through the shades.

The judgment was keen as a woodshed
The cries would fade slowly away
All lie quiet as if they were dead
And the moon still shone through the shades.

Copyright © 2022, Robert G. Metivier. All Rights Reserved.

If you like my work, please: Buy Me a Coffee

Thank you for taking the time to read!

Get an email whenever Bob Metivier publishes.

Photo credits: Alex Antonio on Unsplash.com

First published on Medium on 1/14/2022.

Recommended1 Simily SnapPublished in Poetry

Responses

  1. Oh wow!! I need to be better at checking your poetry more often! This is gorgeous! It reminds me of how the moon is the silent witness of of the night. How we think we get away with things at night and how we won’t be found or seen. But, there’s the moon!