Nocturne
Dim light behind drawn curtains,
gossamer odors of supper,
mumbled sounds of a summer evening.
Bikes asleep on a darkened porch
while children chase the moon
through fields of grass.
Across the street a sprinkler
flicks and rustles over flowerbeds,
outside a bungalow where no one lives tonight.
A streetlight at the corner
illuminates an asphalt circle, while a car
ticks softly down the street.
Oh child, so far from home,
so long away,
a stranger in this distant town,
the yellow blooms of spring are gone,
bright laughing girls gone gray,
and still you wander darkened streets
alone.
© Russ Lewis 1998
