Night Poem, September 12, 2016

 

 

Night comes on and the dark air cools

Colder than last week, colder than last night

Empty porch swings sway in a breeze from nowhere

This house is quiet, ready for sleep

But elsewhere others are up and on the road

Thumbs out under the moon

Moving south like geese

 

These are those whose lives are music

Sad as the blues

 

Each town along the road is a constellation

Of streetlights, storelights, gaslights, red lights, greenlights

All quiet as a painting as they pass

 

Copyright 2016

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