NIGHTHAWKS

Written for the Nighthawks contest...

 

NIGHTHAWKS

By: JB Murray © nov 2009 

 

 

A night like any other

A night like so many before

It’s a story told time and again

Never aging

Only the players change

But the play remains the same

 

They meet again

Under streetlights

Near darkened alleys

A quite whisper they walk

Never holding hands

One always a step ahead of the other

 

His eyes to the ground

Hands in pocket

Her dress to match her hair

Soft embers

She burns

And he burns for her

 

They enter not like lovers

Not even like friends

As if they have just met

Hardly a smile

And fewer are words

A still portrait only imagined

 

Coffee is served

Ivory chalices on the deep mahogany

They reached together for the sugar

Their fingers touch

The subtlest lightening

Not even the faintest illumination

Only the thunder inside 

 

He observes again this night

From across the way

Never saying a word

His head bent

His hat concealing his eyes

But he peeks just the same

 

He watches it all unfold

While the man in the apron goes about his business

Clanging dishes

Running water

Oblivious to the fires burning

He fears the sweetly polished mahogany might burst

 

An incendiary evening

The quite ones are always the worst

Burning hotter than most

He fears for the doors to open

Watching the two of them pretending against the heat

And prays, god please don’t let the air in here…