Trout Whisperer - Black night

I’m laying here listening to stars; they seem to be awfully quiet again tonight. I think it’s time to get up and finish this. I have a place I will air my mind, let the thoughts bound in daylight, maybe let them loose by sitting in the darkened porch.
In my wicker chair I can feel the slight breeze against my skin; I deep breathe that feeling right into me. I like when the night gives me cool fresh air.
Tonight, this darkness, all this quiet, if I believed in such things, would be like meeting the man in the long black coat. I strike a match, the candle is lit, and it pushes back against those thoughts.
Out there, up there, the tiny silver chips flicker, it’s one of my favorite unsung songs, for me it’s like watching a really good blues song, sung. Now I have only to listen to the music playing in my head.
I can feel it.
I can feel tonight.
It matters.
All this blackness wants an answer, to the same question I ask of me day after day, and with no correct response, it keeps me up at night.
Yet another deep breath, that didn’t quite get there.
In what hour of the night my mind says enough, finally my body must agree. I lay back down, claimed by the night, but not the man in the long black coat.
~ The trout whisperer