Nocturnal

My life seems better suited to the night.
One lamp's on in the hall, while I am
In the living room, in darkness, staring
Out across a city of a million lights.
A glowing serpent made of cars is
Writhing at the harbor's edge. Below,
Unspeaking people pass. This is the
Time when everyone, it seems, is, as
I am, alone. A single man is softly
Singing melancholy R&B. “I need
You, baby. Come back home.” I
Wish I had someone to need. Still
Not yet time to try to sleep, I have
Another cigarette to go with one
More glass of scotch. When
Morning comes, the sidewalks
And the stores will fill with
People speaking. Then, I will
Be out of place. I'm suited to
The night.



Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 73 times
Written on 2015-12-10 at 14:07

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