Come Night / by Brian Kunde

Come Night
by Brian Kunde

Day sinks down; wide cast thy black net, vast,
Unfolding Night, ye tattered wing that masks
The cold-banked fires we glimpse behind thy shroud;
Hide well away the Heavens’ light, that those
Who dwell on Earth beneath may know repose,
Lest we in God’s regard eternal wilt
Before the Judge and His unsleeping will.
All flesh that wring their living from the dirt
Wane lean and wan, and lacking thee take hurt
From He unwaning, full and ever bright.
In that dread gaze infirmity’s found out;
All firmness fails, cindered down to doubt—
But thy grace holds the veil to the Face.
We last but by the mercy of the night.

* * * * *

Come Night

from Mortal Verses : Occasions for Poetry, 1st ed., Aug. 2026.

1st web edition posted 8/29/2026.