Night Work


Night Work

By pbbr

A logging road at midnight, the moon my compass only
A forest floor with no bed, I’m alone but never lonely
The silence of electronics is a comforting thing these days.

I slither across the floorboards of a cabin where no one’s lived
Its hallways are abandoned, save my imaginary friends
The absence of sound is deafening; it’s the loudest tone you’ll hear.

It’s time to clear the cobwebs from the furnace, child, your brain is full. Engorged on gorgeous razors, ready to come alive. Like wiping a desk clean, it will shine again. And there is work to be done.

There’s a highway through the desert, and a panoramic tan
The softest slide you’ll ever ride is through cascading sand
It’s dry and you’ll pine for the sea, but there’s solace in its silence.

So dim the lights and seize the night, no matter which direction
Cast away the droning decay you’ve grown to know as affection
The silence of electronics is a comforting thing these days.

It can be painful, rising from the dead, like a stagnant broken phoenix. There are months and sometimes years when you could’ve been productive. But your fresh days will not be marked by this bitter past.

Memories and fragrant lies of people who never were
A vagrant bum who staggers can remind you of your passage
It’s easy to be dazzled by static that numbs the soul.

Snuff the flickering light and cancel the subscription
Tune into the beats of a universal station
One chants out between two worlds: It’s better to be written than programmed.

Can you hear the twilight song of barn owls in the pines? And cicadas tender humming? That faraway siren is not mechanical, it’s the forlorn coyote mourning. He is beckoning you.

And there is work to be done.

26 thoughts on “Night Work

  1. To the desert! Scatter the sands with the broken bones of these electronics, and let that silence sink in… I need to think!
    This is something I need to read after a week of drinking instead of writing. It’s going into a folder somewhere.


  2. Interesting, very interesting.
    I believe in capturing the reader by the first sentence and you sure captured me. It scared me a little because I saw the darkness and your writing made me wonder are you a poet? Because your writing style is beautiful and haunting.

    Liked by 1 person

    • thanks much for your kind words… i missed this comment until today. i’ve been a writer my life entire, no real boundaries or labels, i just write anything that provides an outlet… for me, writing is purely cathartic. it allows me to release pent-up negativity, or vent frustration, or alleviate sadness. if i had another channel for those emotions, i might not have ever written at all.

      Liked by 1 person

      • Your kindness is flattering…even if it is true. I’m a creature of the late 2nd shift…not entirely by choice! It leaves the day available for the wife’s (and my) doctor appointments, etc. even a nap (which I often do need!).


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