All through the night the glow of orange snow.
We cannot leave the world to black and white;
someone might reach out to the dark, and go.
Exhausted ski lifts drop their freight, and low
on fading mountains lies departing light.
All through the night the glow of orange snow
battles the deepening shadows; but although
we double-lock our doors we know tonight
someone might reach out to the dark, and go –
a ship caught in the Arctic undertow
that’s lost her north and given up the fight.
All through the night the glow of orange snow:
the Northern Lights coldly observe her slow
descent below the ice, and out of sight.
Someone might reach out to the dark, and go –
tune out of life as of a tedious show
he’s watched too long. Too noisy, busy, bright.
All through the night the glow of orange snow…
Someone might reach out to the dark – and go.
whypoetry 
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