A Quiet Night.


It’s late, all the lights are out.

A cool breeze wafts in from an open window, it’s quiet.

The sound of traffic, distant and low.

The scent of air fragrant and moist.

A time to think.

A time to remember.

Alone in the dark with just yourself.

Not lonely, peaceful and relaxed.

The stars keep silent vigil.

They drift by the window on there nightly rounds, all is well.

Sleep comes slowly without warning, an old friend.

Another day ends, the promise of a new day beckons as eyelids close.

Pull the blankets high, enough time for one long sigh.


I am a night owl I do almost all of my best work after 1 am. It was a warm spring night and, well you can read what was going on in my head at the time. This poem was also one of the first I have ever written.