The road hums a song only wheels can hear,
Streetlights flicker like shy fireflies,
And the moon ..
steady, silver, stubborn ,
keeps pace with me
as if it too
is running away from sleep.
The dark folds itself around the trees,
The wind tastes of stories left halfway,
And somewhere between mile markers and shadows,
I realize…
the night is not empty.
It’s just full of things
the sun never gets to see.
