After the clocks go back
by cricketjeff on October 27, 2009. © Jeff Green, All rights reserved
I’m walking home in darkness cursing queues of noisome cars
All filled with workers wanting to be gone
Above us there’s a silver moon and sprinklings of stars
The night has put her finest jewellery on
A gentle breeze makes mischief stripping trees of golden leaves
To make a crunching carpet for my feet
While flashing lights of aircraft seem like fairy make-believes
A fantasy played out along the street
A solid wall of silence as I turn to cross the park
Too little light for dogs to chase a ball
But teenage boys are hopeful of a cuddle after dark
The girls they’re with are not impressed at all
The streetlights play with shadows that arrive then disappear
Four insubstantial echoes of the seasons of the year
English