Summer’s rain collects beneath the edge of neon light,
gathered in a rusting pool reflecting sharp the languid night
where only lonely echoes blend last call with none at all,
beckon peace and solace from the last few drops of alcohol.
Cool the stagnant midnight air denies its musk of vapored breath,
sultry in its sticky dew attracts the lonely to a death
of dreams in steaming thunder burst, adrift in late night’s pleasure,
where sordid wisps of booze and flesh tarnish what the hope does treasure.
Beyond it all the pavement sings a wet and whining tune,
stroked by wheels of yellow cabs and puddles thick with summer’s moon
that lay the time to distance across the square through the town,
folds the lonely summer night into its haunts and sleeping gown.
Quiet rends the neon’s buzz to silence with a blink and fade,
leaving only yellow moon reflecting in the puddles made,
where summer’s rain collects in rusting pools at flirting’s stage,
lifting now the errant mask of midnight’s’ lonely cage.