She sits on empty train station platforms at night,
her dreams drifting away in the chilling night breeze,
her legs dangling over the side of the platform.

She plays her music, soft and slow, in the tree-tops at night,
humming along tunelessly with her eyes to the moon,
her hair lashing her rosy, red cheeks in the breeze.

She lies on a bench by a soft-sung lake at night,
her sparkling eyes gazing into the dark-night skies,
the water gently lapping against it's bank.

She walks through empty village streets at night,
her footsteps echoing into silence of darkness,
her arms hugging her shoulders from the crisp night air.

She sits on grey-brick walls with knees pulled up tight,
watching people push into each other, swearing loudly, thinking;
'things are so much quieter at night'