Oh how I love the crisp three a.m. air,
my silent walk into the dark.
Drive under the trestle and hear the low pitch roar of
the freight train overhead,
look up and see it gliding grey-blue-black
against the moon lit sky.
I strain to hear the clank, clank, clank of steel
over the sounds of my favorite song.
This is a moment all to myself,
no whine, no worry, no soothing, no tears.
No one needs anything, but me.
The night gives me it's gift of silence and peace
until the morning sun sheds light on society's ills
and mine too.
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