Street Lamp

Sitting on a hard wooden bench with the
Light of the street lamp over head casts
Shadows to be in places they shouldn't be.

Listening to the moths clink against the
Lamp shade in hopes to embrace its worth
So entranced by that big burst of light.

Looking up and down the empty street
In front of me with an unsteady footing
Of some sort of glee and sadness mixed.

Clinging to the street lamps warmth much
Like the silly moths, not sure if I should move
No matter how close I must be to being home...