Midnight Walking

Not here, though,

not in the silver-lit forests of Eagle Creek

visible only by faint sparkling stars

and half a smiling moon on a deep ultramarine canvas.

I wander endlessly to the tunes of Jon Bellion,

EDEN, and the tap

of my sneakers on wooden planks.

I walk, I walk, I walk,

letting my petty, daily stresses

slide into the shadows just beyond

bur oaks and white pines. I beseech those

Sidhe, the rulers of the wood, in all their wisdom

and trickery to steal away my worldly woes

and let thoughts fade

into the night.

Jack Hopper