Amidst this city’s bustle,
peace, itself, comes in shadowed waves
between the pulse of traffic signals
and above the white noise din it craves.
Yet in the late night hour,
when season’s moon is hushed and full,
summer’s heat brakes the riot
and lays it down in lullaby’s lull.
In these eternal moments,
singular prints of traffic drone
a pinpoint at my ear’s horizon,
gently whir until it’s gone.
The alleyway draws into
the dissonant purr of a window fan,
scuttled only for an instant
by the pattering squeak of the mouse that ran.
The park side pond grows rich in chorus
with bullfrogs’ songs of rich delight,
as quaking moonlit shadowed elms
whisper motion and move the light
of such a season’s moon.
This peace here found is rarely known
beyond the midnight lunch break clan,
but in this hush the city shows
the fabric true beneath its stand.
I’ve come accustomed to this bench
in city park where night-shifts lunch.
Does grant a peace for a weary soul.
Does bless me what I need so much.
There is a ‘coon that visits me
at half past twelve, each night it’s clear.
Begs a nut or M&M
and stands a yard away to hear
me speak of all the daily woes,
of bills and taxes and political rants,
listens to my thoughts of love
and will sometimes watch me dance…
He comes alone as if a pact
we’ve made is to be honored.
He waits in gentle repose, kind,
until our time this peace has garnered
just what our souls so need.
And as my duties call me back,
he too unto his duties heeds.
I close my lunch pail with a smile
and thank the night for this peace indeed.
The moonlight melds to sodium light
as through the alley I return
to task and job and this city’s beat
with a kinder frame of mind so earned.
Upon the waves of city’s hustle
there comes a giving peace,
that if you look between the hours
you’ll find a bit of sweet release…