'Midnight Walk' & 'Pale Lady of the Night': Two Poems by Thomas Zimmerman


The moon bleeds blue, snagged in a yew

across the field, and all along

this midnight walk, a blackness rides

astride your shoulders, spurs your back.

The stars’ teeth shred the drifting clouds,

you smell the musk of earth, then hear

the scraping of vast tumblers in

the cosmic lock: hot rain cascades.

Bright silver tassels dance before

your eyes, you’re blinded to your day-

time life, you slough its skin: a crow

unfolds from overhead and feeds.

A river’s sucking at your ankles,

rising fast. A woman beckons,

currents lapping at her hips.

A vortex glows within her belly,

spreads its tentacles to you.

She takes your head between her breasts,

you dive, entwined, deep into burning

depths—yes, never to return.



Her shroud’s a rotted


Her pelvis nestles

something feral.

Cloud or owl,

wraith or scythe—

most every night,

an omen slices

through the moon,

to mirror scissor kisses.

Breasts press spells

against you, cold

as mausoleum domes.

Dewed thighs smash hard

as alabaster slabs.

Caresses etch

your epitaph.

This lust will outlast



Thomas Zimmerman teaches English, directs the Writing Center, and edits The Big Windows Review https://thebigwindowsreview.com/ at Washtenaw Community College, in Ann Arbor, Michigan, USA. His poems have appeared recently in Rune BearPanoply, and Hunnybee. Tom's website: https://thomaszimmerman.wordpress.com/

Photograph by Thomas Zimmerman, taken at the Glasgow Necropolis in 2006.

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