Porch lights

Twilight, and the silhouettes of trees,
streetlights, and the scent of magnolia.

Porch lights motioned on, and the many
taillights of cars like ships at night at sea.

This is the setting to which my daughter is
falling asleep. For a dark place, this poem

goes on and on about light. Twilight,
streetlights, porch lights, car taillights.

All of it and the hum of the car is putting
my daughter to sleep. I questioned

the repetition, my use of the word light.
But the same song plays on and on.

The melody on repeat. And every tree must
be repeating itself blurring past her window.

Of course, repetition is soothing. Every day we
wait again for the one we love to come home.