Outside wonders upon concrete

     Ah and as though my mind, my pale soul could
allow me to slip into sleep. La. No. Too much roaming
through my head.

     Place denim over paleness. Exiting the doors for
a cooling of brisk air inside lungs. Perhaps that
is exactly the thing to press me into sleep.

     Oh who knows until I attempt to do it. Alas here I
go. Down the hallway. Searching in the darkened room,
inside a drawer for the navy denims to slip over top.

    No need to enhance any eyesight with extreme
white. Ah. La. Outside I drift to sit on concrete and
iron staircase. White poet's top off right shoulder
and dark navy denims for warmth. A smirk crawls over
my face.

     The wind picks up the loosened coppery curls.
Shifting, dancing them across untouched shoulder
blades. So quiet it is outside.

     Stationed for a while longer to absorb the sounds
of the insects. Hmm. No one else out here but me.
Peaceful. Dare I be surprised if another soul is
enchanced by the evening, morning music and starry
night light.

     Hmm. Calmness and joy overflow down my
soul. Laughing inside my spirit. Oh how silly I must
seem to some. Just happy.

    So entertain an idea of beauty on concrete saying
a whisper across the air. A wave of hello to all who,
like me, are still wide awake.

  Enjoy with me the simplicity of the darkness of
nighttime. Will you?