Late Night Poetry

I couldnt sleep again last night.  I woke up and the birds were singing and it was so quiet.  I find it crazy how this city thats so 'loud' during the day can resemble such beauty at night.

So, I wrote a poem last night to try to describe things.  Please be aware that I did write it at 4 am and I was exhausted plus I dont know if it even follows the 'rules' of poetry.  But here goes:

4 AM

Heart Racing
Every muscle exhausted, aching.

Give up for now on sleep.

Out the window
the grey clouds
tuck this city
into a quiet slumber.

I see the dark outlines
of Mary Poppins chimneys.
The flashing lights of the city
hidden behind the houses.
Dotted porch lights
like old impressionist paintings.
Concrete wet with the early rain.

I hear water running.
The teeny stream that once gave
George and Mildred a place to play.
Occasionally sounds of planes and
sirens join the party.

Birds, like the string section are
leading tonight.
Wonder what they're talking about.
Their voices in stereo fit together like patchwork.
Do they hide during the day
or can I just not hear them?

My achy, heavy eyes close.
Instead of concrete
I see trees and miles of green.
Deep cleansing breaths
renew and reset.

Sleep is calling me.
Dont want to leave the birds
or the quiet.

Gratitude for these 4am dates
of feeling the city with a beautiful, healing wonder.

Must sleep now, must sleep.


BonnieKaye said...

That was a really fun poem. Love the reference to Mary Poppins.

Anonymous said...

I like your poem. I think poetry starts with a vivid image, and you've really got that. Poetry manages to take us beyond description, and you've done that, too. Keep writing!
Aunt Gail