Midnight Walkers

A poem about those nights spent far from sleep. And far from your bed.

Midnight Walkers

 

Through desolate streets the red lights glare

While midnight walkers stop and stare

Not caring for when the little green man flashes for them to cross,

 

And people in their sheets, asleep

For not the midnight walkers weep,

They know not of where they tread

To them the night is spent in bed

 

But coats wrapped tight while wind blows strong

The midnight walkers carry on

Their feet taking them farther than they think

 

Street lights cast the shadows short

And home, to them, a distant port

And dreams a thing they once dreamt of

While the moon beats down on them above

 

When at last the fire quells

And the endless nights ring out their knells

The midnight walker, silent, yells

For they found the place they were looking for

Author's Note

Any and all comments appreciated.

Reviews

[Michelle Fourie]

You took me on a journey of a midnight walker. So lovely. Felt like I was there.

[maxine01]

I loved your poem Midnight Walkers, specially since I wright poems myself and your poems remind me about someone I know.