The Night Air

15th August 2022

Cold night air crisply connects me with the universe around,
on one night, clouds hold the glow of the city, yellow and pink,
another is clear, and black, and silent, pinpricked with worlds far away,
on another still a satellite turning, dotting, dashing across the sky,
through darkness owls and fruit bats stealthily glide,
I try to avoid the gaze of the power pole possums …that fried :(.

The asphalt of the street expands to each horizon as I step onto it,
house lights and sounds of the tv become distant,
Bronsondog has disappeared if he managed to find his way out,
family veiled away in another reality, while I’m out and about.

The driveway wet from earlier rain,
moist grass and mud now on the bottom of my shoes,
rich compost smells and suburban garden beds,
daffodils and jonquils, lettuce, parsley, mint.

…I realise in there I was forgetting who I am,
the cold serves to remind me, it’s not all a sham,
I’m feeling it, living it …observing, quiet like a mouse,
…this, bin night,
in our house.

Prompt: The Night Air


Kashgar Matriach,
Xinjiang, China.

Breezes Poetry (mine) Little Messengers copyright information Copyright Sunda 2022