The Lonely Cry At Night

 

 

 

                         I have seen them all

                         the good   the bad

                         those who were wicked

                         those who were sick

                         some meant well but couldn't

 

 

                         I have heard the birds

                         seen their heads moving in the mist

                         their footsteps walked upon the water once

                         trees who shed their grace

 

 

                         As the shadows lengthen

                         over the inner city

                         music filters from an open window

                         a figure rises slowly from the deep

                         his cry echoes through the alleys

 

 

                         We cradle our moments

                         years slip by instead

                         if there is a story

                         it has no moral

                         there are still some moments left

 

 

 

                                                            Jack Mashman

                                                            1991