Returning Night Safely Poem by Tony Noon

We are post social here.


The music has lost but

the barman isn't worried.

He is polishing the minutes,

laying them neatly in racks

so he can get away sharpish.

Pizza to go and a six pack

chilling mean quiet midnights

and an early walk home for us.


When this moon was ours,

we danced forever in it's craters;

made large of small talk at the rims.

Then alien day diffused our shades,

enforced a new perspective,

returning night safely to our fathers


and their sepia tone conceits.



Tony Noon