Sometimes things stated simply can sound both stupid and poetic at the same time. Take this line from a Melissa Etheridge song: "And the night is black, as black as night." It sounds like she just got lazy in the lyrics department. But when I stepped outside tonight into the cloying, murky darkness, those lines were the first thing that popped into my head.
Night comes early as we descend into the depths of dark that precede Winter Solstice. It seems near midnight when I leave work each evening. Tonight, the unseasonable warmth combined with a low cloud ceiling to convey the feeling that night was literally hanging over us, like a thick dark cloth thrown over a cage.
Night is dark and deep.
Home, I turn on all the lights,
shed this thick, black cloak.
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