Playing with the breeze of the dark.
Soft comes the night, creeping.
Long is the drive to the softness of my bed.
Silhouetted windows are filled with light as I pass.
Yellow and white glimpses of lives I’ve no part of.
My hand rises and falls out the window.
A Christmas tree-car gives color to the street.
Red-blue-red-blue.
“Glad it ain’t me.”
Playing with the breeze of the dark.
Warm is the flowing air tonight.
How I love the smells.
Orange, honeysuckle and lilac.
My nose fills with memories.
How I long to share these.
Creating more and more with you beside me.
Driving where ever.
Playing with the breeze of the dark.
The city eases down.
A creature of day transiting to another.
Different rhythm, same life.
A scattering of people.
Slight hum of tires in the distance.
The white-blue hum of the lamp posts.
Playing with the breeze of the dark.