Metamorphosis, by Charles CarreonOut very late
Eyes so bright as to be unnatural
Walking about in the light of street lamps
Hands shoved deep into pockets
Gazing at the stars thoughtfully
Fully conscious of the 3 A.M. silence
Saying very little
Listening listening
And everything is quietly whispering
Whispering very quietly
And we hear the whispering grow to a soft murmur
Soft light in the east begins to turn off the stars one by one
They disappear
And the light grows
Still we walk about
A bit chilly and
Talking softly about important things
Garbage trucks and lumber camps
Important things
And as all in the east grows indigo
We sit at the edge of a vacant lot
Watch the sun crawl over the horizon
Glowing very bright pink
Silent we are
With the glow fading from our eyes now
Simply smile and sigh and watch
In the living room play chess
As the sun scrubs the darkness away
Renegade bands of light rout the fading shadows
... and --- we sighed a long sigh -- for awhile
Then our minds curled up
Like cats before a warm stove
In a kitchen with a woman smiling 'round and
Singing songs the words of which she does not know
1969