A Night in Fitzroy
 

This soft night,
walking deserted asphalt, one is also Elsewhere
somewhere mind forgets that feeling, feeling without words
remembers, recognising in this gentle rousing
experience, sensation body and spirit needed but had forgot.

The breeze blew through one with reminiscence,
a slight tint of regret, but most
this soft night found one acceptance
or the past in oneself, for its future -
as for the night, for life. Past the lines

of lonely neon sentinels, dark deserted streets
this soft night, found in awareness
as if gift, in rare balance, in peace
the insight that if only for this moment
it is good to have been, it is good to be
alive. This soft night -
 

Patrick Alexander

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