I am the night watchman, vigilant.
I see scheming and intrigue,
I see things being done preferred to be unwitnessed
while longing for catharsis; unlikely enough
before morning where honesty is slightly more unstressed,
where self-assurance is more easily bluffed.
I am the night watchman, alert.
Watching third shift workers ignore heavy lids,
believing biological clocks can be ignored,
laddered sleeplessness accepted as routine.
Stealing forward motion from where energy is stored,
forgetting where the daylight should have been.
I am the night watchman, concerned,
for souls unnaturally denied the rest gained only by repose.
Darkness once necessary for some repairs now undefined
while the real cost goes ignored or misrepresented to those
lured into shifts of higher pay but recondite overtime;
harsh lessons of sleep deficiency untaught, so not learned.
I am the night watchman, observing,
lawlessness darkness can serve to conceal...
thievery and homicide, shady dealings of all kinds.
A time of opportunity for the con man licentiate,
confidence men and pickpockets seeking gullible minds,
conspiracies and collusions proliferate.
I am the night watchman, retiring.
Serene nighttime hours no longer sanctuary or recluse,
more stern than solemn, more wearying, less solitaire,
inclusive more of boredom that once was almost obsolete.
Missing the awe at the sunrise in the crisp morning air,
breathing smell of fresh coffee on the early morning street,
too much already lost or too likely to lose.