A sweet hum rests on the air, suspended like a spider from a glistening web of complex rhythm. The streetlights are playing their music once again.
Night after night, they orchestrate their talents to create the perfect hymn. It reverberates off the brick and cement walls, intertwining with the silence that fills the night.
The sound echoes through my body and carries my mind to a different place, different time. I become a child wrapped in its mother’s arms with no worries or thoughts of leaving. Everything is warm and comforting.
Now, there is no comfort but the streetlights’ bent figures. They stand as guardians with electric eyes. Witnessing man’s wrongdoings, but never telling. They will always sing their song.