Evening lights, November

Time.
I fear I shall lose my mind
For if I cast a glance at night
Along the congested lanes, I fancy I find
No choking queues only veins of light
Scarlet and vanilla. Amid the blaze
I find my fireflies and tinker bells
They waited patiently for me to stray
And I long for a chance to follow them
Back into those cotton-wooled, milky days
And see my mother once again young and my brother,
Always together, both distant and within
And play the nursery games we surely played.

If it was not casually given or taken.
If asked, I am sure he would have.
Stayed.

I bow my head to glance inside then travel on
Choked, as the dainty, daydream lights blink.
Fade.

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