If I don’t look out | Peter O Regan

If I don’t look out now, out this window
And into the city
I’ll miss my chance and with it the night.
Orange and yellow lights sheen in across my page
They offer solace in the shadows run repetitive
And then they fail
As deep beneath all vision
The light offers no warmth
And in the vacant stuttering of the bus in wait with open doors
The engine ticking over
Taking time to let us go.
Instead it holds us to ransom
Along some distant shores…
For this is no longer Budapest
But is anywhere away from home.

Tiredness tempting
A blush presented.
Cheap Wine on tired mind
Lets fatigue run over gently
Into greater weariness
Which with time
Involves us in the whole charade
As sleep and dreams envelope