Nighttime Vigil
The poverty she lives in,
has made her old before her time.
She pulls up her chair,
to the window –
for her nighttime vigil.
Outside neon lights are flashing,
somewhere behind the restaurant lights,
couples are dining,
in the bars people are rejoicing,
somewhere they are even dancing.
The glare of the subway station,
high up on the el tracks,
practically opposite her window,
in comes the rumbling train,
the floor shakes and plaster falls.
She hears happy voices,
angry shouts
and cursing from below.
This always makes her so low,
remembering her lost love
and how she should have never,
left him behind,
instead fighting for what should have been,
a love till the end of time.
Running away had brought her,
the kind of life that made her heart,
remember and ache every time,
her nighttime vigil began.
Often she doesn’t turn on the single light bulb,
nothing to see,
but a threadbare floor,
cracked ceiling and walls.
Better to let the light come in from the night,
she longs to lay down,
close her eyes and dream –
of homes with manicured lawns.
Where gentle tree-lined streets,
brought joy through all the seasons
and people who cared.
The night that she was queen of the prom,
but all the sounds from the street,
keep her from dreaming
and she sits until the show gets boring –
finally crying herself to sleep.
The alarm brings her to reality,
another day has come
and she goes down,
the steps into the city throng,
wondering where it had all gone wrong.
But one day she knew,
that she would find a love true,
who would take her away,
make her his queen,
make all these nighttime vigils –
finally disappear.
- Her Magical Attic - May 24, 2024
- Reflecting on the Setting Sun - April 9, 2024
- In My Special Dreams - February 16, 2024


Such a lonely life and so vividly expressed. Well done, Rasma.
Thank you Phyllis. The inspiration came from living a longtime in NYC and seeing people sitting by their windows just gazing out.
You’ve done a masterful job at reaching into the soul of the collective wretchedness of the world and weaving a tale of sorrow and regret…
Bravo….
Thank you R.J.
A heart felt drama of life Rasma, well penned and emotive with some nice phrasing and imagery. great work.
Thank you Tony.
So sad. This sounds like a lost soul roaming the streets of a large city where dreams were promised and never came to fruition. Great imagery in this one. Nicely done Rasma.~Paul
Thank you Paul. Even though the photo has Vegas the inspiration came from my hometown NYC where there are many such lonely souls.