Follow Up the Night

It wasn’t and isn’t creepy, middle of the night, it looks like the next summer will be cool, let the poetic skies, hardly any flies buzzing through the entire Parkside field-to-field, there is one iconic and legendary bench full and wise names, admittedly smiling ten bucks too. He becomes a bigger fame picture, honored lifetime, a simple hair, the sideburns hanging down close young cheek-to-cheek, handsomely, styled shades, a frame-like look, increased color shape, big-time Pepsi drinker, still. But he is a true thinker beforehand, sincerely, he spent the night outside alone, sat down on a million-dollar backyard bench, rewriting a few poems and a couple of poetry works he had done before, warming up with an inglorious heart and soul together.

 

Written by

Michael James Brindley

12-1-25