Lullaby

[random freewrite. I wanted to try and capture a mood, so I was thinking back to going to sleep in Malden.]

I remember laying in my bed, and how it never got pitch dark.
The big picture window looked out to the pavement,
where the streetlights would color the slats on the blinds
yellow twilight gold.
It always was twilight after sunset,
with a sky the color of dried up rose petals, washed in brown and orange
and the smoke of the smog masquerading as clouds between the stars
that punctured though the electric curtain,
three or four if I was lucky.
The massive pine tree was outside the other window,
dancing like an old man shuffling to a dusty waltz
while squirrels the size of crows the size of pigeons jumped back and forth
like they were playing jumprope in between the needles--
and the wind would keep blowing,
sometimes from the east like three kings carrying gifts of trash, car exhaust,
and air dipped in the salty Atlantic.
A car would go by my house like a blanket
and I would fall asleep watching the pine tree sway.