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People Aren't Awake this Time of Night

A poem about a stroll.

By Henry RichmondPublished 7 years ago 1 min read
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People aren't awake this time of night.

My head was filled with stars

as I wondered and wandered down the road

and the sky smiled black.

Dark, with no city haze to cover

and I liked it.

I tried bouncing my tennis ball but

the echo maddened my ears.

I let the silence run its fingers

through my hair.

The bold amber eyes of the cat seemed

surprised when it saw me, frozen. for a moment

and then fled, arrowed down the icy track.

People aren't awake this time of night.

I kept walking and didn't notice the cold.

Irrelevant.

I didn't mind the glaring lights

of the truck that struck me,

a fateful silhouette cast gold,

I didn’t care.

It didn't see me coming;

had no reason to, really.

People aren't awake this time of night.

sad poetry
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About the Creator

Henry Richmond

I like writing and the snow.

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