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A Summer Poem: White Nights by Finola Scott

White Nights

In twilight silvered gardens
in uncurtained bedrooms
people stop
stumble from dark pubs
check their watches
look up and smile.
This northern sky shimmers with
stretched summer light.

The stars have bunked off, leaving
the Moon to guard their beds.
A lonesome fox lopes careless
across sequinned lawns,
passed the Ancestors
saluting the Stones.
On the horizon a low fire
smoulders through the night .
The world turns towards the sun.

Finola Scott

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