Lost Cries In The Night (Poetry)

It’s 3am — wind niggles at the trees
it has a voice that wavers — sobs and sighs
while working through a list of miseries
becoming shrill it stutters — drops and dies

A dog barks somewhere down the dark-knit street
disturbed from dreamscapes set in warmer climes
a noise alerts him but does not repeat
he settles back as slow a church clock chimes

A fretful child a wall or two away
grizzles — calls for mummy — whimpers on
unlatched a creaky gate then has its say
monotonous in warped and weary song

At last the storm — the grumbled threat and curse
erupts into a bellow as it breaks
and trees protest — their thrashing sounding worse
till all but the most leaden sleeper wakes

The riot is short-lived — its screams subdued
drowned out by the soft lullabying rain
that soothes the night into a drowsy mood
so restless souls might find some peace again