Called from the depths of comfort by an adventurous curious source
I step out into the cold silent world different than the one I knew.
The strangely lit darkness urges me onward, nudging me forward
down the long dimly lit narrow pathway I've followed many times before.
Though beautiful the lake by day, it became more so darkened by the night
as its ripples, unable to reflect the moon, used the pale orange glow instead.
The swing quietly creaks as I rock back and forth, watching for the stars
silently creating the story of the young girl who haunts this playground
next to the obsidian lake where she had drowned before help came.
I imagine her wandering the edges of the lake for the rest of eternity
and sitting where I sit with her hair whipping around her neck without a breeze.
The cold night air nips at my cheeks sending me back to my warm comfort
putting an end to this little midnight adventure, at least for tonight.
I escape this bewildering world in which a city actually sleeps
and retreat into my comfort to await the rise of another sun.