In the Quiet of the Night

John Rutherford

January 7, 2024

In the quiet of the night

a child gazes at the moon,

dazzled by the shining light, 

listening to her mother croon

a lullaby about the sight, 

the shining orb like a balloon. 

On it, she pins her hopes and dreams, 

an astronaut she longs to be,

to see the world beyond her screen, 

flying there, starstuff and free,

to look upon the blue and green

dot, to know all there is to glean.

In the quiet of the night, 

a child gazes at the moon, 

dazzled by the shining light, 

over her, it gently looms,

frightened by the floating bright, 

waiting for the coming boom.

Is it the moon, or a flare?

A guiding light for the platoon,

the klaxons clang, the sirens blare,

the danger will be here soon,

her mother offers up a prayer,

for their bodies to be whole, unhewn.

In the quiet of the night,

two girls dream, seas apart,

for one the sky holds delight,

the other pulls along a cart,

two wheels, a symbol of her flight,

her mother, glad of the head start.

In the quiet of the night,

the calls for peace remain ignored,

the violence, just another blight,

the hunger, fear, and senseless gore,

children frightened of the lights

in the night sky, a sight to abhor.

John Rutherford is a poet writing in Beaumont, Texas. Since 2018 he has been an employee in the Department of English at Lamar University.