This flickering Nowhere makes a mockery of the Somewhere I’m supposed to be

The streetlight’s intermittent bulb, unable to illuminate even the merest confirmation

Gives no inkling of where I am, where I’m going, or even, where I’ve been

An owl hoots in amplifying echoes as though seeking to assist in its radar sharpness

But I am neither bat nor whale, though I often feel like I inhabit their abodes

Those of ebon shades and indistinct definition, of water, earth, air and the in-between

For momentous decision are made at night, not dusk, nor dawn, nor unassignable hours

Regardless of one’s exact positioning, one’s actual viewpoint, one’s supposed vision

As true thinkers shirk from the sun and its brazen obviousness, its deliberate displays

Preferring the cool rationale of imagined midnight streets, actual lonely lanes and desperate city blocks

This flashing beacon intercepts such thoughts and promotes only one conclusion

I am neither Nowhere, nor Somewhere, so must be Elsewhere. I always have been

Thank you for reading
Richard

Richard M. Ankers
Author of the brand new steampunk extravaganza Britannia Unleashed.