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The night
Such beauty it radiates
A stillness illuminated by the lamps
As the occasional engine coincides with the silence
Like an elevated note in a harmony of
this private hour
With only the lone hanging moon
Save for the surprising trail
of a shooting star that startles
your shadow into dancing with you
Mind not the light pollution
For it lets your shadow stain the ground with ink
Night pooling at its feet
Stoic is the dark skeleton draped in its oversized cloak of leaves
Frail but firm, unyielding to the breeze
The night
So dead, yet full of life
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