To invisible  street spirits who dwell,
at midnight spot  I speak and usher in,
moonlight for lumpen backdrop stage,
as I whisper silken thoughts at cusp,
maybe raise my tone a little higher,
one must hear methinks yet muse,
against that shifting black velvet veil,
depth of pathos echo I must release,
does it impact ghosts as they soar?
so called deaf ears might now  glean,
I’m not being cynical in caustic ploy,
whoever lurks and skulks as I address,
a moulded heartfelt passage I utter  
to one or two an exponential swell,
the darting cluster of figures so vague,
despite apparent stillness one infers,
I sense your gaunt dark plight intrusive,
or zone of verve, your smug endorsement,
express permission before dim curtain droop,
count me as an ally in chaotic witching hour

Year: 
2025
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