A Colchester Nocturne Poem by David Mitchell

How strangely tranquil this town seems!
A quietness the stuff of dreams
Through all this soft and warm air streams
As still as death.

On this and ev'ry summer night
Day slowly turns to mild twilight
More pleasant to our mortal sight:
We pause for breath.

How diff'rent now, from when a crowd
Fill'd full this town with buzzing loud,
And Culver Square was just a cloud
Of human kind;

When people walk'd through ev'ry street,
The footsteps of so many feet
The weary antique pavestones beat:
They did not mind.

For now so few their vigil keep:
Most are at home falling asleep;
This old town almost seems to weep,
The wind to sigh.

For now a solemn awfulness
The air of evening does possess:
It sighs with great and deep sadness,
And so do I.

(Friday,15th September,2006.)