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Orange City Night-Life

A Poem

Orange city night glow

Makes me nervous

Trees are better to reflect

The sky night light;

The moon off the wet roads

Shining off the base of the palm of leaves,

On a Sunday morning.

A leaky gutter and a blowing wind

Welcomes the outside debris,

Gravel, stones, deaf leaf


And the rain, from being splashed against

The outer windowsill, lands inside

So I get damp trousers when

I sit.

I’m going to buy a rain mac

The most childlike innocent type,

The large cloud gliding

Down the street; red or blue, yellow or


Or white, black

You’re a walking tent

Bound to the confines but you’re your

Own room, how cozy.

Unfortunately the baby cries and

Drains the roll of it’s

Pram wheels.

The thunder rolled;

The lightning set the sky on fire,

The leaves turned orange in a day, but

Drops of water fell and still,

The baby cried.

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Orange City Night-Life
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