I Like the Middle of the Night poem by Ken Peters


the people sleeping
and the sounds of strife
(the smell of fear)
have subsided
night pools and eddies
at my feet
the lack of want
cool and refreshing
the cage
that is the fear of death
open
while they sleep
their dreams of youth and riches
are insubstantial
weightless
never sully the perfume
of time
that graces this quiet
this dark
this peace

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