The idea of the midnight hour
is an image,
a feeling,
a scent and a sound
that has always consumed me;
even before I could stay up this late.
And now I realize
that the midnight hour is not one,
not two hours, not three,
but the whole night,
and I am driven to defeat it
breath by breath
and minute by minute
and hour by silent, screaming hour
until the midnight train has run its course
and I roll into the station, victorious
knowing that the idea
of the midnight hour
is not an image,
a feeling,
a scent and a sound;
it's a lifetime of silence
and when it comes around
I'm afraid, but determined
to live this one out
and prove to myself that the sunshine
comes from somewhere.