-- Night Thoughts --
John Herlihy
No one to share the room with.
The house quiet, not even a creak in the stair.
A tree branch may scratch the windowpane,
As he enters into the fatherland of solitude.
The night is outside there in the middle of the rain.
At least here snug in bed inside, he is out of the rain.
Although somehow he feels the rain inside as well,
The drops falling down, there into the well of his soul.
All the way down until they never seem to end.
It’s been a rough day, but now it’s at an end.
Yet the night seems endless, nothing but darkness.
Twilight’s lengthening shadows vanish into one shadow.
The light of a cigarette butt glows red hot in the darkness.
Night thoughts enter his mind, unannounced, uninvited.
They sit there in his mind lifeless, like random stones.
The night thoughts soon become his thoughts.
If he is not careful, the night will talk back to him.
He lays there silently, listening to the voice of the night.
At least he isn’t alone, the night is with him there,
To talk to and to listen to, to know he is somewhere.
- - - - - -
(c) John Herlihy 23 August 2020
Rebecca