Alone With Midnight
The moon sits high above the stars,
Lights illuminate from liquor bars.
Police cars, sirens, high-speed chase,
Laughing, dancing, music bass.
But in that city, I do not roam,
It is neither my shelter, nor my home.
I prefer to hear the sounds of nature,
Cool wind blows from a fallen arctic glacier.
I take long walks to clear my mind,
Thinking of ways to put my past behind.
Sometimes I pause and adore the trees,
The crawling of squirrels, the buzzing of bees.
The best of these feelings occur after dark,
The hooting of owls-the sound of a bark.
Shadows are cast by the presence of the moon,
I pray that the sun does not rise too soon.
Sitting on a park bench, I think out loud:
How could a time of day make me so proud?
Of all the guesses I take, I may never be right,
So instead I dream to always be alone with Midnight.
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