Moonglow
Evening has quietly tiptoed away on slippered feet
Houses up and down the street are silhouttes
A garden looks white, washed in moonlight,
And the faint sound of a train whistles through the air
leaving a trail of melancholy longing, resounding in the dark.
A table had been cleared of all traces of dinner
and has now been set for breakfast
Doors are locked, and a
screen has been put across the glowing embers.
Two golden laboradors
in deep slumber, are curled in their baskets by the back door
The house settles
as the momentum of a busy day
winds itself down.
A mantel clock is ticking, and the refrigerator is humming with comfortable familiarity
The moon slowly makes a shadowy passage
through the windows of each room,
as it puts the house to bed...
And today becomes tomorrow...
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