4am

My scandalous rendezvous with the world

Nothing outside of fogged windows but lightly tossed shadows

Too late for the nocturnal, but too early for busy bees to bumble about morning routines

That tepid human fear of witching hours and murderous strangers

Tickling the back of the neck

you think

twice

Yet journey onward

Slide-squeak, an opening into the abyss

The only source of sound for miles was me

Crashing the door closed, an earthquake of noise as I sit on a collapsible chair

Yet the silence oppresses once more

Last time there was the fog, but this time an insipid wind

Too weak to make noise, to create ruckus

The trees stand untouched like calendar photographs

To the backdrop of humans violently colliding and creating suburbs

Where deep breathing cretins like myself get intimate with the night

As flags wave lightly but silently,

for the wind rustles,

not disturbs

The deep resonating of human development, the street lights that we built like force fields

Humming their monotonous tune.

Quailing our fear for the dark

Meditating for what feels like hours,

only twenty minutes

Yes, I had stolen away with my peace of time in the night

Softly relearned the nuances of being human

As the Earth and I watched each other die in mutual silence.