This night

walking home from the bus-stop,
something made me eschew the
brightly-lit shelter of the
void-decks of the blocks of flats
for the open darkness of the night.

Above me,
the sky was a dark blue suede
      (almost black)
on which tiny crystals twinkled,
      sparsely scattered,
and wispy fleece of dusky rose
      were caught.

In the distance
the lonesome yellow street-lamp
bowed in weariness,
but was cheered and caressed by
the dance of a playful breeze.

I’d looked up into infinity,
then to the lighted labyrinth;

standing in the engulfing darkness
and balmy night air,
I decided that I had made
the right choice.