Into the Night

There is something about old poems, the rawness, the imperfections and the silly little things. I found one such lost poem today. Therefore, I raise my glass to the younger me, to whom the world was simpler and hopeful. Cheers!

I love walking with night.

Bokeh and splotches of light,

pockets of shadow,

dew wetted  park rails.

They make me feel alone no more.

Every door I walked out of,

have added shades to me.

They don't fade.

With time I get deeper.

I look back without a twinge

Of pain or regret.

The layers of night

peel before my eyes

It leads me on and on.

This path is endless

All I want is to walk

I inhale the chilly night

and I don't breathe out-

capturing moments within me,

in my lungs and skin.

And when I die I shall send

bit and pieces into the wind.

My moments will stay,

while I become dust

and get blown away!