Outside My Window

With everybody often so late I am on a war path with loneliness Been booed deaf by the lazy wail of curtains And the chime of wall clock in recent days Today I shy away from the beating A gracious relief, with a light heart, eye carts me Out of the eye of the house, a mean aperture at first Till the image of red sore light zaps on my retina, a lone star On a dome shaped hill where the telecoms planted it. Close by, a homeless bat flaps wings in the Gathering dusk to convert it to a dark night The lone star on the mast, now must contact those late