When Night Comes - 100 Days Poetry Challenge Day 5

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When Night Comes

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He comes to us, like a father working late
You could peep his head, pitch black
Towering above all, the shops, the restaurants

As he walk the streets, picking
From salons, those deserving of his shade
Tired, from stress or day long hibernation
You could never tell

The big houses, they hid at his sight,
Sidewalks got lost in his shadows
He cast them, like he did spells.

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The smaller bungalows, leaped for joy
as he reached down, picking one toddler up
as a father would, to rest on a shoulder

He is a show off, the stories would say
It wasn't a collective plan, avoiding him,
The market women would pack up,
collecting their wares, as the signs swung closed

If ever he lost his way, the bulbs were left on
Street lights alternating at intervals
For those times the moon, low on wick thread,
forgot to shed light on his path

The corners become deserted, lonely
As a car shuffled its way to an open garage
Mothers said he frowned, when the kids play
So with sleep, he cursed them

And even as adults, they succumbed
to its tender calling, till it dawned on them
Tucking them in, demanding
That the trees sing swooshing lullabies

And in the mornings when the sun rose
Father left for work, and not a word he spoke

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Original poetry by @fego

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