Walking at Night - The Mag 139

 

Midnight Snack - 1984 by Curtis Wilson Cost

 

Walking At Night

 

A lighted window will always draw my eye

Away from the dark road or wooded path
Sometimes a flash of clothing moves past
Or the bright movement from the television

 

I turn away and move down across meadow
Points of flickering green or shimmering red
Greet me from hedgerows with huffs or
Chitters, rustles that move away or fall silent

 

The angular reflections of bouncing light
Stand mute at the meetinghouse  – wavy
In the big old panes of glass, creak golden from
The weathervane that turns to catch night light

 

Sometimes I turn down quiet lanes
Blue white ceilings on porches cast an aura
Around front doors and over porch swings
That sway and squeal softly on the breeze

 

Main Street is always an assault - headlights

And blinkers, cigarettes flashing past with ashes
Trailing - a loud and raucous gauntlet to be run
Signage pops on off on off on off on on on

 

Garish light of neon makes me close my eyes
I squint with an imprint of color and flash
Hard against my lids – the sound of voices
Clink of glass thump of bass echo of music

 

Best is the light that gently falls from above
The pinpoints of light from ages past
Luring my eyes upward and out past red dots
That blink their way across the firmament

 

Passing back into the black and blue of night
I return to our small place at the wayside
A gentle light and movement behind curtains
A warm comfort that waits beyond the step

- Susan Lindquist 10/2012

 

 

shared at Tess Kinkaid's Magpie Tales - The Mag 139 

edit done - 10/16/12