Night’s Music

One-twenty-eight AM, the sky can’t sleep,

radio tuned to starlight, time

to be part desert

where music crosses over from

a major to a minor key.

And it is beautiful to hear the sadness

when an accordion dreams,

the sound of distances collapsing

into melody that nests

in the ear. There’s an electric sparkle

in the dark, language

with no passport gaining entry to the night

and monsoon weather playing

through an echo chamber in the clouds.

Ay ay ay, spare a thought

for the rain, for a lost streak of lightning

that can’t find the way back home.

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David Chorlton
Picture Rupert Loydell

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