The Nighttime Parade

There was a light.

Through the lilting lampshade,

And by the window

Where there was only the shadows

From the trees that moved outside.

Imagine them, for a moment,

reaching out towards the window,

An extended finger in a curled beckoning:

Come with me, let us find some meaning

In the nighttime parade of all the things.

And the streets, roads and the dusty byways

Which when the blanket is thrown over the eyes

Of all the diurnal critter and folk,

There can be seen the littlest of eyes poking out

From behind the brush and bramble

Little moon glows, candle flames and shimmering coins,

Pebbles which reflect the reflection of the sun.

I snuck out one night, you know.

Exchanged my sleepwear for the warmer pajamas,

And shoved on my slippers, dashing out under the ebony sky,

Where stars cocked their shimmer from left to right,

And the moon chased the sun out of his place of day–

That is where I looked up,

The seams of the road I stood on,

Patched with decades worth of corrections,

the grass that grew only because the concrete let it,

And the dandelion weeds that wouldn’t ever die

But yes, I looked up,

And felt small before it all,

And then down and to the right,

There was the moon glows, flames and coins–

Pebbles which flickered between the brush and bramble.

So I sturdied myself against the ground,

Chanced one more hurried glance unto the sky,

Fastened my laces so I could walk with surety,

And smiled at the moon glows, flames, coins and pebbles.

I walked with them, in the nighttime parade