Night Watch at Cedarwood

My feet are restless tonight.
A solitary, impromptu walk
is a surprise even to myself.

The air is thick with lily musk.

Shards of glass wink at me from the sidewalk;
gems scattered before Bilquis.
The quiet conversation of dinner-full bellies
leaks out onto the street.
Two kids whirr by on bikes;
their words evicerating some poor othodontist.
A wandering cat flirts and then befriends me
but, only for a few paces,
before it immaterializes into the playful shadows.

The scent of lilies is overpowering.

A devasted little girl's turn is next;
her mind as addled and innocent as the cat's.
"Waz you name?" she asks.
"What's yours?" I counter.
"No, you first!" her shy retort.
A stray girl with a no-home.
"I've to go home," I say almost cruelly.
"Okay" as an indiscernible sigh escapes her.

The air seems choked with lily particles.

I keep walking,
now, anxious, to return
to the patter of quadrupeds and the broad smile
that awaits me at home.
Will they be there?

I turn the key.
Swift click and I'm in.

The smell of lilies melts into the night.