One Night In June Poem by Christian Thomas Scott

I told the walls, I'm going out
But I'm sure they already knew.
I hate to leave them, as they tend
Towards growing lonesome, so lonely.
But they have the windows and the
paneled floor, and the grass at the rear of the door.

But I'm going out today, and so when
I climb on the wheelbarrows of
Seasoned air, ripening so quickly,
In that burning heat,
They'll know, and I'll return.
I won't be out too late,
I won't be gone too long.

But the next morning, when I woke,
I felt some small measurings of guilt.
I didn't mean to give the stars
My company, not for the day-long night.
But let me explain, you see.
I lost track of time, and possibly, it wondered off.
I've said a thousand times it's never where it was.

But you know how these things are,
You know how they tend to be.

So when my meanderings lead me back,
And I'll be frank, I took no shortcuts there,
And here we are,
Welcome home,
It's been awhile, I know.
I left my belongings while I was away,
While I was far away.
But I'll go and get them,
I'll go and fetch them later.

For now we have the catching ups,
the quaintest conversations will we have.
And you, my oldest friends,
You close companions of my heart,
And where is home, but there and surely so am I.

Yes home is here with you.
But in a moment, see
Burnt cobblestone awaits,
The city streets and empty greetings.
My errands here and there attend.
I hope that you will understand.

You know how these things are.
You know how they tend to be.

And so a night or two was spent,
Such close companionship I've never had,
And never will again.
But Oh I will be down for breakfast,
Down the hall,
Up the chimney for awhile.
You know how he enjoys my visits.
And selfish would you be?
How lonesome in the summer to be left so long unused?
So very, very lonesome and alone.

But enough said at this time.
I promised I would stay, and yes I know it
Hasn't been long passed,
But you always do forgive me when I go.

This time I'll bring you back a piece
Of all the places that I've gone.
Or maybe you could visit,
And we could share the wistful western sky.
So soft I cut my corner with a spade,
Yet I was not there digging for the sun.

Oh but do you remember when I first dug you, and
Your foundations in the earth?
I must admit my carelessness has shown.
I misplaced far too many windows to my soul.

They must be down there still, you must be standing
On their backs, you must be built upon their panes,
You must see clearly into me.
How odd I've never wandered why they're here.

Yet you know how these things are,
You know how they tend to be.

And now to you, and careless may you be,
I know my walls, and I'm certain they are unoffended.
But do be careful, do be sure you are considerate.
Don't go digging for some fantasies so very far away.

I must be off, and here I leave you,
And I grieve to go this time, I swear.
Yet I will not be gone away for long,
I swear I will return not stay away.

And some distant voyage calls me, some
Wayward wind and seaborn expedition into
All that isn't known.
Some walls of water, walls of rock,
And walls of mountainsides.
And I do regret, if I may tell in confidence,
The pouring of my hopes into the pits from which
I drew the schemes for some foundation,
Many years ago.

Perhaps my walls should travel with,
And, in preventing their loneliness, ever keep me company.
Yet I know, I know they are too fragile for the journey.
Oh let me write them, share my secrets of the hidden,
Paint my mysteries to the heav'ns. Oh how they would love
The sun! How enamored of the sunrise would they be.

And then comes ice-drawn giants, frozen in their timeless
World, and alone. Yet they are not so lonely in their majesty.
They find company in solitude. And as I join them,
Chasing the wind from some long-forgotten moor,
Awakening every tendril of searing life,
To be a reminder of what once was,
I am reminded, once again.

And those coastline skies, as though a sunset
Had never hurt in such a way.
And when all the heavens sang, no, no it never was this quiet.
Yet I could feel their voices. I could hear them in my heart.

And ageless fog did cover meadows,
Away and overwhelming, as though walled in on
Every side.

But you know how these things are.
You know how they tend to be.

And would you believe it, but the wind
Sent me home. I suppose it knew
My walls were growing lonesome
In my leave.
But no matter, for I have cut a cornerpiece,
From every single moment to be shared.
Visions of time, and alas, my own
Tragic end. Yet this matters not,
For I have my walls for company.
I'll take them with me next time,
I'll keep them close at hand. They've never
Seen my world before, the other one I hold.

But you know how these things are.
You know how they tend to be.

Yet I can feel it, and I know you are aware.
Of this unsettling premonition,
This melancholy touch. We're growing older by the moment,
We're losing what we used to know.
Though it still appears as though we have our youth.

Let us lose ourselves, old friend, in a canopy of
Solitude, alone and in our company,
Above the twisted leaves.

Yet we awaken to old birthday cards,
And Sunday-luncheon meals.
How glad I am to have my walls for company,
Yes, thank you, my companions, for your stay.

Yet I fear the ghost of that once was,
And I'm sorry to say, so more,
Lives among you, lives with me, lives between.
Oh why are you a reminder of yourself?
And why am I reminded by your absence?
Isn't it enough that you must close me in?

I am sorry, I shouldn't throw my troubles on your shoulders.
You carry the weight of my shelter all your days.
Yet I swore, and yes, I'll take you with me.
But I do, I sense, feel rather empty.
I'll take you if you'd like or not at all.

The weather is bright, and the hay-bales are beckoning.
I will return, if you don't mind.
I'll tell you all about it, I'll sing you all the songs,
All the voices in the heavens that I heard.

Oh but don't tell me you have never heard them sing?
I've spent much time amid the music,
There and much time around and out of sight.
Yet all lands have their symphonies,
The stars the brightest of all.

But you know how these things are.
You know how they tend to be.

I know I should've showed you more,
Yet I couldn't seem to trace my tracks.
And you have told me time and time again,
I was stretched too thin.
I should've listened, yet we need our balance,
A balance, in order that, if I'm lucky,
Goes as we hoped.
But never according to plan.

And now I know you are the epitome of secure,
But I did promise,
I did promise you I'd take you far away.
We'll go on some warm night in June,
When all the clouds are busy somewhere else.
And now, if you aren't too hesitant,
I will show you the world.
Oh but don't tell me we're out of time,
I swore it wouldn't end this way.

But you, you know how things are,
You know how they'll always be.

Yet forever I will know what could have been.