The Midnight Man

They call me the Midnight Man

For I never sleep;

I walk as far as I can

‘Til Life bids me weep.

 

As I stride toward shadow

All their voices sound:

“There! Look at the sad man go

With no friends around.”

 

The hands of Night are quite cold

Yet embrace me still

‘Cause my journey is so old–

For All I take chill.

 

I walk for the lonely souls,

I slog for the sad;

I explore misery’s holes

As Midnight nomad.

 

And when dawn rears her first hues,

Flushing the world pink,

My eyes close–Midnight won’t lose!–

And in final sleep sink.

I Walked Upon A Midnight Cold

I walked upon a midnight cold

Under a white light called desire,

Passing sleepy houses lighted gold

Until my mirth began to tire.

 

Through frosted windows, blinds undrawn,

Were dancing lights from T.V. screens;

The eyes of a lover which shone;

And a child, tossing his green beans.

 

Yet out in the soft, cloudy night,

No sound disturbed the crisp, still air

As I reached the end of my flight;

Of an old fence I ‘came aware.

 

Its metal was barbed, brooding-grey,

And rose unto the boiling sky.

Yet, from a tiny hole, a ray

Of moonlight’s pale and lonely sigh.

 

I reached and reached but could not touch

The glowing orb in vapour sea,

And found that my length was just such–

Too short, the fence so tall, you see.

 

Beyond the metal menace hopped

A bunny silver and alert,

Twitching his nose with whiskers topped,

And causing my poor heart to hurt.

 

With a wink and a bound he flew;

And I took a last, shaky breath,

Turning towards the street anew

Wherein I faced not life but death.

 

But how could such a thing I rue;

The only life I ever knew?