this time of night

Still up, amongst the rabble,
and the insects
as they swarm in the cool,
and relish the moonlit
I rummage through thoughts,
I reflect, I haunt,.. ever caught
a thought as circles about
around and throughout your head
or flown in the placid purple twilight
of heaven's ocean in the sky?
Quality time, quietly appreciating
silience as it is but for the crickets,
far off car tires against the cooling asphalt
automated sprinklers hissing new moisture to alien lawns
No pressing appointments
to nail down uncertain morrows
the moon, her stars, their perch and ours
I love this time,
though I am often at my lonliest,
overcome with rerun moments
of my life
as it once was
hypothetical questions
unvocalized to the universe
Am I ever thought about
is it time and time again?
Why do I do this?  
Will I ever stop?
another question...