The walk

The day is done,

The lights are down,

The shutters are closed,

In the sleepy town.

A wind-chime chimes

As the night wind blows,

Over a sea of darkness,

Gusts of snow.

The street lights bend,

Over the quiet of the air

Like the little Gods,

That from the heavens stare.

The traffic lights play,
A symphony strange,

Unawares of their futility,
As in unison change.
I say, Oh dance away,

At the wind's behest,

My day was endless as my wait,

But it's still a night long walk to rest.
And I smell slumber not too far, 

On my long night's walk to rest.