Poem Hunter
Some Night
ES (August 7,1959 / Battlecreek, MI)

Some Night

Poem By edward serof

Mama asked me
why was I standing
out in the moon.
To see better
what is so brightened out
by the Sun. I think
my sight is less precious then.

The moon whispers
where eyes have to strain
to see barely
only some of what's there,
but I can make out enough
to get around
as long as I slink and skulk
like a cat-a few steps
to wait and listen
and scan a few feet
the gully and glen ahead
that falls away and rises up
when I'm not ready (for it) .

A low, unknown water oak's branch
stabs at my face and I duck and fade
just missing it.
Every muscle keenly set, keeps me
safe and agile and completely tuned and alert.
I like this-
feeling my way in
almost nearly
not quite hardlly
I am most alive on this prowl.

Jumpily swatting
at things after me,
I gambol
from the tangly, grabby-treed yard to
the 7th fairway of L'il Mole Run.
Here, everything's so cut and primped and laid out that
it feels like Disneyland
has snuck in; it's fun, sure, squishing
the vast dewy Bermuda links
by the Moon where marshmallow creme sandtraps
ooze aglow from the shadowed fringe,
but the bland and canned course
flat muffles any adrenaline and I pine
for my primal jaunt and the fight
I had to make it through.

The fully mellow Moon
blushes to slide behind a thick thunder-head
and the utter dark
besides flash lightning
brings me ambling home.
I wanna do that again (some night)

by eserof

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