The night shift in the middle of winter time
Always went slowly even when the weather was fine
And as the patrol sergeant I was always a solo patrol
At about 2 am I stopped the patrol car to keep awake the goal
I stepped out and walked along a group of old shops in a row
As I checked the locks and shone a torch into the rooms aglow
Looking inside of the shop for something out of place I'd find
But this time there was movement in the shop out of the grind
I saw a small boy playing with a ball and laughing so loud at his game
That it startled me and I moved back kicking a can into the window pane
At the same time the boy looked straight at me and he did smile in such glee
Finally turning around and walked through the rear closed door in his flee.
© Paul Warren Poetry
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem