it’s dark; darker than I thought it would be
the moon is a half-bottle
of bright white milk
a spotlight
but still, I can barely see my hand
in front of me.
there’s a purr to the night
a rise-and-fall;
a hum
cars, crickets,
small critters under my bare feet
I am a silent observer;
a watchman they are oblivious to
I’ve heard the world goes to sleep
at night
but on the contrary
everything just begins to wake,
to stir;
not the end of daylight –
the beginning
of everything in between.
we are just too blind to see
too conceited with ourselves
we do not see
the cat at our feet
purring
under the moonlight.