Goodnight...

    I write to fight.  I fight to write.  Sometimes I fight myself to write.  I fight for right.  Two wrongs don’t make a right.  I fight the good fight…whether it’s wrong or right.  I don’t know any more.  Now you know…and knowing is half the battle.

     I’ve lost many battles.  Will I win the war?   There’s a war on.  What am I fighting for?  Fight! Fight! Fight or flight.  

     It’s getting late.  I am tired.  My head is light.  It will soon be light.  I’ll be blinded by the light.  I was friends with the night.  We drank wine and wrote love letters.  It’s alright.

    The kids are all right.  Tucked in tight.  Read to and sang to.  Lit their nightlights.  Dreaming dreams of fears and delights.

     I will join them soon…when morning greets night.  The sun opens it eyes.  The night scurries from the light.   It will leave no trace behind.  It’s very discreet…the night.  

    But look close you’ll see.  The night has left it’s mark on me.  My eyes will tell.  They always tell on the night.  It’s only right.  Goodnight.