Night Gathering

Fires along the walls. Lost light caught
In corners, starved dogs summoned, sweat
And smoke in little yards.
Moon begins her wayward fall.

Fingers practice the anatomy
Of stone. You drink, you dance,
You spill your wine in dust that soaks up
Time. You like to sing the sparks
That flicker in the gorgeous
Mind, in the heart always dismissive
Of stolid, arid tunes.

Ruptured stars: down here it’s night.
Sleeping hills are turning now to space
Where nothing matters, your finger sliding warm
And welcome down my arm.

Swallow sweeping twin-tailed to a secret room
To dive, my dress a bloom.
There is a bead of love
Between each wave that steals all
Reason from your eyes--a peace
That rights the murder, the only sense
We ever made.

 by Nancy Bevilaqua

'Night Gathering' is part of a book of poetry by Nancy Bevilaqua entitled Gospel, which is due out in the near future. Her website is:


  1. Well done, Nancy. Your poem being selected to be Poem of the Month is a great achievement. I like the photograph, too.

  2. Gorgeous: "my dress a bloom." Lovely poem, well-deserved honor. Warmest congratulations, Nancy!

  3. Good Gorsh! How sad to miss this when it first came out. I could plead a thousand excuses. They would all be about my ego and self-centeredness. What a great poem, Nancy, what a nice thing for one's sprung off to be anything of the month.

    I loved this, in particular: "You like to sing the sparks/That flicker in the gorgeous/Mind.."


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