In the dark
she's scared,
to be alone at night
so we sit, and we talk,
in whispered voices,
(which rise to laughter at times)
about stupid things,
meaningful things -
the words drift into the moonlight
and we sit,
until the words grow so weary,
that sleep is all thats left
to await us, in the dark.
[back]
Copyright Rebecca Page 2000.
