late at midnight
eyes half-closed, body half-tired, mind half-churning
words flow through my head
but escape before i pin them
to the screen that serves as paper

in a midnight window i can
see my reflection in the city lights
in the bright night lights

there are midnights
when a shadow on the wall can take on
such significance
in a bleary-eyed night daze

and there are midnights
when it seems too early to say goodnight
when every thought
is a mystery
of should i say
or do or think
or should i not be worried
so much about my thoughts

and i wonder if anyone
else is looking out a window
and trying to see
through the midnight lights
or if other people's midnights
are just dark nights tonight

once a midnight
always upon a midnight
but no dark stormclouds this night
not even in me
this may be my brightest
midnight alone
in a long stretch of days and midnights


31 july 2001

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