A slight drizzle,
Announcing the arrival of the clouds,
As a full moon sky is besieged with darkness.
Streets boarded for festivities,
Song and dance,
Colour and light,
All a part of this beautiful night.
Feet move and stop and then,
Move and stop again.
Light radiating from a smile,
That stretches from ear to ear;
I walk along these celebrating streets.
Hands waving and welcoming,
Mardi Gras and make-shift hats,
Now complement a three-piece suit.
Oh, and there are plenty of drinks to go around.
This city; this street will not sleep.
The air is both wet and electric.
Through the crowds,
I reach, outside,
The smoke screen of a loaded restaurant.
From inside, sitting on a table for two,
I get cast a look,
And despite the 1920s,
Not enjoying the luxury,
Of start, stop and pause machines,
All else comes to a halt.
Just two smiles parted by a smoke screen.
Just then, a yawn announces morning,
To a shoebox called home.
‘Today is going to be a good day’.
Picture by Brigitte Tohm (Unsplash)