Nightwatch Poem by Martin Moore

NIGHTWATCH
I watch the nocturnal world elapse
Through my window on the night
A silent, precious time perhaps
Between sunset and first light
A dead of night existence
Known only to the few
That chance the middle distance
And dare to taunt taboo
Wet streets and wetter rain
Reflecting off car roofs
With no daylight restraint
Adolescents are bulletproof
Wind corralled beech leaves
The dying and the dead
Storm battered gables, eaves
Beyond the watershed
A blatant, barking, distant dog
A noisy neighbour's gate
Infrequent, eery urban fog
Quickening heart rate
The heavy rusty hinges creak
Cats screech out their opinion
The twitching curtains, preliminary peek
In territorial dominion
The sodden black and amber flags
Hang limp and hug their posts
The floating, dancing plastic bags
Psychokinetic polythene ghosts
The rattle of the heating flues
That herald November in
My midnight meandering is through
And dawn is here again.