POEM: Night Walk (Audio)

Just a town night walk in the rain

Today I bring you a slice of life, nothing deep going on here just a snap shot. Move the body, breathe the air outside and allow yourself to feel better for it.

Night Walk

Sometimes all you need is a night walk in the rain

In your waterproof coat, wrapped up against the pain

With your hat and scarf, your heavy walking boots

Stomping through the town, choosing different routes

First I see the moon in a small silver sliver

A raindrop finds a bare spot on my face, I shiver

My paces fall steady beneath bright street light

Releasing my brain from it’s pointless fight

I walk up Sheep Market Hill and the rain gets heavy

I pass the bar where the darts players are a big bellied bevy

My town smells of dog shit, fried food and weed

Dope runners on their bikes whizz past me at speed

The youngsters gather in corners with nowhere to go

I can smell their boredom, while they wait to grow

There is so much to observe I forget my own fear

I am ready for trouble but I find none here

If it kicks off late at night in any strange guise

I will scream “Maximum violence” and show crazy eyes

They won’t expect it from an old lady like me

With my heavy weighted army torch from 1963

That vision makes me laugh at myself right now

I am dripping wet but with a brighter mind somehow

Just the feet plodding on one in front of the other

Has helped me feel better and almost recover

I wonder if the town fire back in 1731

Was started by a weed smoker whilst having ye olde fun

As my thoughts ramble on and the sky water pelts down

I thank the rain, the walking, the night, my town

Sometimes all you need is a night walk in the rain

Distracting yourself from discomfort and pain

Now my house feels warmer and my heart feels lighter

So I sit at my laptop and pretend I’m a writer

Commentary: Okay, my poems don’t normally need any commentary, they are pretty much what you see is what you get. But I wanted to discuss the last line! I am a writer of course you know this, I know this, it’s all good. With this line I am teasing myself. My perception of what I should be like if I was a writer was so wrong for so many years that I didn’t write. I just took myself too seriously. Now, I accept that I am a writer. I am a person who writes, I write every day. I write many pages in long hand. I write stories for a Dungeons and Dragons campaign. I write poems and essays and short stories. I write daily haiku and publish it as a weekly newsletter. I am thrilled to finally know that I am a writer. To have let go of the writer I thought I should be and to joyously embrace the writer that I am.

Thanks for listening and reading.

Ever onwards with courage we go x

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