There’s something about walking after dark
When the air is cool and the shadows stark
Below the periodic streetlamp glow.
A special magic percolates, its mark
Drapes itself over every unseen arc
Where searching souls and spirits grow
To bind the threads that make the world one.
Or maybe I’m simply homeward bound
As the night sky’s crowned and the day is done.
This past week was a very busy one, and there were a couple days when I walked home from our office after the sun had set. On one of those days, the first few lines of this poem came to mind, and I finished it that same night.
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