Time Moves On
The night is crisp.
But it is not cold, for music goes through the air and warms it.
The walks themselves are silent.
Yet lovers keep them company.
A voice is heard.
It's the voice of a brave soul calling to a wistful world.
A few find themselves alone.
But when they discover it they run to join a crowd.
The darkness whispers.
But the groups and their lights try to drown it out.
The bell is heard pealing out the hour.
Time moves on.