Late at night

Past midnight, the roads are a lonely lot

Streetlight sentries patrolling every inch with

Their orange search lights,

While villainous darkness curtains itself.

 

Like this they lie, side by side

In a game of hide and seek

Frozen on the face of the road

A carpet striped in concrete black and sodium glow.

 

The rare motorist flies by the façade,

Wind and fear rushing along on the sides

Propelled by a bravado

That is hours away, getting dressed

In sunshine.

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About Runa

With words you can reveal, hide, confuse, clarify, rule, beg, love, hate. In speech words live momentarily and die with the moment. In writing, they are immortalised and in being unspoken and unwritten, they become omnipotent: God like. My words here could have remained unspoken. Could have. They're immortal and that's enough. View all posts by Runa

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