Night Watch

A man in a black overcoat walks into the night. Under a street light a circle of autumn leaves shed their waning colors, hues that reach just a little beyond that electric ring of light. The man pauses to light a cigarette one hand cupping the flame from his lighter. He moves on into the black night where everything, even fallen leaves, disappear. I watch all this from under a fedora, my black coat tugs at me as if wanting me to keep walking into this movie of myself, to watch alone as Winter rolls in across a screen without frame or corners. Walking blindly now to a place where only the night watches.