Sprinklers

jboelhow

The passion of loneliness sprays on my mind
like sprinklers at midnight.
A clear sky lets me see into the past
through small points of color
Stars stay beautiful
because they are to far for human hands to touch
like sprinklers at midnight
I spend the night smoking my last cigarette,
for the second time.
A full moon and an occasional satellite are the only witness
As listing to the rhythm
the rhythm of the sprinklers at midnight

I have made promises for every blade of grass
Told lies that out numbered those same blades
The cycle never ends
like sprinklers at midnight

Lit my last cigarette, for the third time.
There is no sound from the world
or should I say man.
I wonder if all humans died,
what would happen to the sprinklers at midnight?
Would God remember to set the timers?
Or would we become just another moon

A small red amber reflects in the droplets
as it outlines an arch to the grass.
Fire meets water tonight.
I've finished my last cigarette
For fire has no place with
the sprinklers at midnight....