Lullabye for a Sleepless Night
It's late. Outside, cities sleep,
Or wake up, or do whatever it is
People do to pass the time. It's late,
And the moon passes between clouds
Like the last train out of Vienna
In the final reel of an old movie.
It's late. And yesterday's waste
Waits by the roadside to be recycled
Again. The old dogs howl in dreams
Of endless summers of haystacks
And drowsy-polleny-buggy sun-days
And energy that burns and still lives...
It's late. And the last goodbyes draw close,
Link arms and lock eyes and pose and smile
For the images I will carry with me
Til I forget them. They can wait.
Tomorrow's players are rehearsing
Already, butterflying for
The rising curtains. Outside, the cities
Dream, or pull tight to their lovers' heartbeats,
Or whatever people do to pass the night.
Thanks for reading,
Dave.
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