December Lights

A little bit of loneliness settled into me
From a trip I took downtown.
Even the safe posts to which I return,
My home, the things I know,
Have a sense of unfamiliarity.

A little of the silence I heard outside
In the tripís aftermath still remains to reside
And when I speak now the sound of my voice
Jars out in the living room like foreign noise.

The quiet night, the lights wrapped around
Wooden porches, make the surrounding space darker,
Harder to see; December lights
In a cold lonely quiet yet quaint, flavored night.
It seeps into me, this momentís taste,
Through my skin to my muscles and bones and still deeper.
Cobblestone streets, an old, ornate church
Muted by shadows of traffic-lit trees.
There is no one around, save a few single bodies
Making their way to their cars back (I think),
Turning in for the night, passing closed cafes
That line the streets like streams intertwining.
The beauty of the interplay of every detail,
The space between lines, between the cars of the light rail
Hold the world in a delicate balance,
Mirroring the starsí (we canít see from here) dance.

Every tiny thing I do sense
Settles inside me with permanence.
And I become built from the little pieces
Of each new impression I intercept.
And I wonder if itís not a one-way attack Ė
Maybe the well shivers when I stare back.

Though Iím home, in part behind I remain.
Inside Iím still traveling on the train.

Written by PhantomPhace
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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