The Night, The City

by John Eagle (Music by Andy Derryberry)

The boardwalk is a canvas

For sound in the night,

Hard leather striking fissured cypress,

Dark music for a luminescent orb,

Alone in a crowded indigo expanse

Hung over a silent, yet torrid river.

Such a setting for the night, the city

As footfalls echo the solitary thoughts,

Then you stop,

Long pull on a cigarette,

Single ember gleaming,

Smoke swirling in the chilled air.

With more force than it takes

You toss the live stub into the river,

Hear the pfist of its death,

And descend the levee steps.

The street greets you,

Rain and loss add a glazed look,

Your steps, undaunted, yet without purpose,

Ring clear along your clouded path.

Couples walk, hand-in-hand, along the brick banquet,

Their shy glances secretive

And you do not care.

A short burst of music from a bar

Blooms like a time-elapsed photo–

Dwindles just as quickly.

You pull your collar up against the noise and chill

And look for a place to light.

A bar, cloaked in quiet, pulls you in.

You smell stale beer and cigarette smoke

And still find a seat at the end of the bar.

You order whiskey without a call

And absently light a cigarette.

Smoke rises, yet the whiskey is still dark

Behind the billowy shroud.

You hear a soft ballad from the jukebox

But lose its meaning

In the acrid taste of whiskey and smoke.

A single bark of laughter awakens you.

You drop your cigarette into the whiskey,

Turn and leave the bar

Into the night

Where the city awaits.

The Night, The City | John Eagle and Andy Derryberry | Story Telling