Maternal, impartial,
night shields the child, old thief,
the priest, the penitent, the clutched love that is brief.
Night masks her children, locking in
the saint and sinner; all,
all her kin
bundled beneath a ragged shawl.
Night is felonious;
she comes to shield, to lie
and blind young loves who strut past weary ones,
past the aged seekers who trudge by.
Night breaks the latches of two doors,
begins again two ageless wars
where a new birth and an old death cry.
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