The Nights are Drawing in

The nights are drawing in.
Each droplet on the pane
is lit by table-lamp, reflected
in the August rain.

Don't pull the blinds;
let the summer last.
Its warmth remains to fool us
the season hasn't passed.

But we can't deny the darkness.
When songbirds go to bed,
allow the owls admittance
to woo the dark instead.

poem © Celia Warren 2011