Nightborn Poetry

I am brought out,
from within the relative comfort,
of my home;
With these turbulent thoughts,
that chase my heart,
and into the blissful stillness,
of the balmy night;
Under the yellow hues,
of the street lamps,
glowing and flickering,
with moths and light,
I walk;
I calm myself, submerge
with every stride;
Find myself in this pace,
release and vent,
re-imagine ways;

Unexpectedly, our paths meet,
somewhere on these,
deserted streets;
Like trapped souls,
fluttering against the net,
my poet and me,
We see each other,
we never greet,
we just know we exist;
We walk together,
in silent company;
For a while,
everything is quiet;
I follow his lead, I breathe

And when he leaves,
takes another turn,
although we did never speak,
there are words he leaves me with,
Words that become my poetry.

© soulreserve 2015

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