Well Past Midnight

Look how late it's gotten. Everyone's gone.
There are no cars left on the street. The
Lights are off in all the other houses, and
The serving plate between us offers only
Crumbs, but neither of us wants to go.
I feel as if I've waited all my life to hear
You tell these tales, to see the shadows
On your face, to sense that, after having
Gone so long believing that someone my
Age was doomed to live alone, I've been
Mistaken. We have met, a miracle itself,
I'd say, the lesser one, the greater being
That we cannot part.



Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 17 times
Written on 2011-11-14 at 12:26

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