Good Night, Eric Norris (September 2026)

Good Night

This library is colder than I like.
My shoulders, sore today from too much rowing,
Shiver a little for dramatic effect.
I have no audience, except my pen.
 
I want to write something about a night—
Or maybe many nights—compressed in one
Symbolic evening that will redefine
Night in my memory. I think of you.
 
And then I think, this paper is too white,
My line of ink inadequate, too blue.
Nothing is as I remember it. Maybe
It never was that way. In life or art—
 
Except this once. I write your name by mine.
Then add, “Good Night.”
            
                       Then, I put down my pen.