There's a song the night sings

Deaf to the masses

there's a song the night sings:
lost from the evening,
far over the edge of world;
for anyone who listens
for those who're awake,
music of emptiness
restless in rhythm.
knob cranking
radio-made
bouncing in canyons
for a road weary soul.
it creases the 
wonder with worry, 
a bruising bass line 
in an anxious key.

there's a song the night sings,
unyielding through
tender and moonless black.
deaf to the masses,
neon caught in
the corner of an eye.
skeleton players
soothe chords
in a candlelit room:
a body a shadow
a note a confidence:
how those rattle trap 
skins bang on.

---

It’s April 3, National Poetry Month. Today’s poem feels unfinished to me … I may come back and add more stanzas to it. I have a feeling about the night: its personal-ness, its privacy, which is very tender and specific.

How do you feel about the night?

Here’s a song the night sings to me: