Witching Hour

After midnight, but not quite dawn,

The stars on their strings, puppeteered by the moon.

Two wild things beneath the October sky

Tracing trails of laughter through the silver streets.

They clasped hands and spun till the world was a blur

And shouted in the wind that they'd always be friends

Then they sat in the grass and looked up to the sky

And their lilting voices were magic in the air.

And their laughter was music, and their dreams were concrete,

And in that hour between night and day,

They dreamed to dance among the stars.

And then, the sky fell, or they flew up to meet it

And the stars were in their eyes, and seemed close enough to touch.

There was nothing but them, and the sky, and a song

In that hour between the midnight and dawn.