It was all quiet on my street
when I noticed the stillness;
no living souls on the sidewalk,
cars parked and pitch black windows
the rustling sounds of oak and elm
against the shivering winds;
they stood no chance facing the tempest
and the leaves faltered like earthly snow
the clicking of my shoes, creeping
with the echoes of a dead day,
the last sounds of life before sleep
and the lulls of tomorrow
my skin bathing under the streetlight,
its glow as false as its man-made warmth;
my soul awaits for the dawn
somewhere above darkened skies
It was in the break of my stupor
where I saw a figure in the shadows,
and I helplessly knew in that instant
the futility of life and its dreams-
Poetry Vomit 