Curbside Confessions

Curbside confessions
beneath moonlit
streetlamps.
Porch lights
flicker
to a cricket
chorus
and police sirens
wailing through
dusky air.
Words meander
back and forth;
glimpses
into a soul.
Time stands
a little still
and waits
for this
bewitched hour
of truth.

© Eleanor Clark
23 June, 2013