RETURNING NIGHT SAFELY

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A poem about lost ground

RETURNING NIGHT SAFELY

 

 

We are post social here.

 The music has lost but

 the barman isn’t worried.

 He is polishing the minutes,

 laying them neatly in racks

 so he can get away sharpish.

 Pizza to go and a six pack

 chilling mean quiet  midnights

 and an early walk home for us.

 

 When this moon was ours,

 we danced forever in its craters ;

 made large of small talk at the rims.

 Then alien day diffused our shades,

 enforced a new perspective ,

 returning night safely to our fathers

 and their sepia tone conceits.

 

 

Tony Noon

 

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