The Heart Of The Night Poem by Allan Thorne

I awaken from dreams
Of slaughter and mayhem
To the sounds of another
Saturday night coming to an end.

The bubble of conversation
Punctuated by;
Shouts of lust,
Shouts of anger,
Braking glass,
Revving engines,
Squealing tires,
Police sirens,
And one fool howling
In the street like a dog.

By three eleven
It is over.
And for fifteen minutes
There is silence, absolute silence,
As soft as velvet.
The silence at the heart of the night.

Then a trash truck whirs down an alley.
The seagulls start to argue with one another.
A homeless person curses.
The new day has begun.
Back to the dream.