A January Night Poem by Nathan J. Bogart

The light of a nearby car
Began its ritual of dancing
Against my pale blue walls
And in turn led the dance
Of the vibrating procession
Of a distant train taking its journey
Up my walls and towards my ears
Until it leaves but tapping water
And the silence in between
Carried on by the rhythm of the lonesome drummer
Residing within my blood
Marching so stubbornly away from
The understanding of my unknowing
What reaper shields itself beyond such blindness
Will forever sprawl itself upon my walls
In a ceremonial march of unconsciousness