Midnight Streets

by Susan Moorhead

Put on the long dark coat
and walk the midnight streets.
Let the cold air wrap around you
on this night opening into something.

Walk past houses full of sleep and promises,
where children mumble in dreams, and a dog
snores at the foot of someone's bed, ear
twitching as you pass.

Walk without aim or fret or purpose
as the cast light of street lamps drinks the ink
of your shadow. A strand of your hair snags
on a bit of wayward twig, and your coat begins
to unravel, one black thread at a time.

Walk towards the end of this last road,
without hesitation or remorse. Behind you
only a scatter of stars, the rind of the moon,
the whistle of the slight wind following
the sound of your empty boots.

Susan Moorhead says "My poems and stories have appeared in a variety of places including The Comstock Review, Bayou, Earth's Daughters, Mothering, Whetstone, among others including a Pushcart Prize nomination for an essay in Brain, Child. I have a children's picturebook forthcoming with E.P. Dutton." When asked to name her favourite fruit, she replied "blueberries."

Back to the Table of Contents.