Poetry, written August 5, 2020 right before midnight. First poem of the night, fairly dark (1 of 3)
A cold breeze passes through the air
Cutting through my coat and my hair
Adding to the sadness and the silence
I stand on the street at night
Basked overhead by a lone streetlight
Listening intently, to the deafening quiet
And my head begins a song
Having walked the streets alone
With only a ghost for company
Loneliness accompanies the tune
Embraced by a sliver of moon
The rustle of leaves, their own symphony
And the images of long lost love,
Of friends since passed in the stars above
A wisp of cloud and the sky disturbed
And I listen to the dark again
Thinking of what might have been
I find myself sitting upon the curb
My soul wants sleep, I don’t even try
I want to weep, but cannot cry
My world frozen in the dark of night
I breathe a sigh in my heart so deep
Holding my knees with bowed physique
I stare at my feet with glassy eyes
My thoughts are only broken by the morning light.
This is what it means to be me.