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Rated: E · Poetry · Drama · #1409987
Unseen people in rows of houses.
Riding Through The Early Morning Streets

Houses bordered and shuttered
Nameless against the night
Existing subtly under
Workings of lampshade light.

Harbored here under the branches
Whispers of pedal and wheel
Open now out in the moonlight
The bright shine is too cold to feel.

People live on in the houses
Stories unfolding inside
Some have been laughing, some have been sleeping,
Some have been lonely and cried.

Keep your head down under moonlight
Hold in the breath of your body
Rethink old thoughts, dwell on your demons
Know that you really know nothing.

The Waste of the stars lies above
Chasms of earth stretch below
The people sit tight in their houses
And rarely think on the unknown.

Chill is the wind pushing past you
Harsh is the glare in your eyes
Never look back at what's passed you
In case it has already died.

Strong in their rows and their numbers
Safe in the dying night
Onwards the homeward journey
Into the newborn light.
© Copyright 2008 Jenny Ritchie (jennyritchie at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1409987-Riding-Through-The-Early-Morning-Streets