Dusk.

The evening has set in.

The lamp is on.

The blinds are open,

to watch the night arrive.

As night falls

The sun is on my back, the evening is creeping in...

The moon is in the blue dusk sky... the air outside is lovely..

Night descends, street lights come on...

Dark sky, neighbours home and quiet.

The hum of the suburbs has slowed.

Wednesday Morning, 12.45am...l went for a drive to someone l know, and on the way home...

Tonight;
l looked to the sky.
All so very dark.
A Full Moon; so round and white.
Shone brightly,
So clean, white on black.

As l walked out of my neighbours front door,
l looked at the trees, hovering over me.
They say you cant see colour at night,
I see all shades of green on the trees and bushes.

l love to see just trees at night,
A torch for light,

Trees, giant lungs.
Veins going in all directions.
Sound of wind through the leaves,
Makes the music so sweet.

My little walk has stopped.
l now enclosed in metal.

Heat from my body from being out in the cold,
has fogged every window.
Turn the key,
Sits ...

Finally, there is another view.
Of roads and streetlights.
Travelling smoothly, l see orange and green,
Fake light, to make it all pretty.

Almost home, with each turn of the wheel.
To arrive at my prison,
So clean and tidy.

Once again, the comfort of home,
The warmth l have built,
For my very own.