Poems of the dark night, wind, sometimes rain, always that nagging feeling left over from childhood that there is something lurking. Anxiety, fear, the imagination getting the better of our common sense. What we know to be true in daylight just no longer convinces us when the inky shadows spill. Poems of the morning, the light that restores and even in our broken world brings comfort and relief. Poems of the in between hours when things could go either way. These poems cover the range, sometimes with humor, often with hyperbole, always with a time of day firmly established