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Issue 1 Poetry

The Harbinger

Night is a devilish harbinger, bringing

dreams and fears that infiltrate

your sleeping mind, 

where they feed until

either your heart screams

for release or the dawn arrives, 

a stake in the vampire thoughts that

drain the soul and foretell a doom

you perceive is always lurking out of sight

 but never out of mind.

We wish each other “sweet dreams,”

as if we had the power to impose

our will on that realm, as we claim we cannot

on awake-hours, always victim to circumstance

and our actions which we recognize,

“karma,” a form of self-absolution.

Night, you understand, doesn’t give

a damn about our sleep habits, 

for our thoughts are just 

faint background noise

to the celestial conversation, and how

and what we dream is our delusion

which the stars and darkness will

never share, so “sleep tight,” and

“pleasant dreams” because nature

and night couldn’t give a damn anyway.

By Louis Faber

Louis Faber is a poet residing in Port St. Lucie, Florida. His work has previously appeared in Atlanta Review, Arena Magazine (Australia), Zen Bow, Exquisite Corpse, Rattle, Eureka Literary Magazine, Borderlands: the Texas Poetry Review, Midnight Mind, Pearl, Midstream, European Judaism, The South Carolina Review and Worcester Review, among many others, and has been nominated for a Pushcart Prize.