At Night (Spenserian Sonnet)

When the Sun sinks down, done for the day,

when the darkness of the night swings by,

the city becomes alive, but in a different way.

The music is louder and drinks are nigh.

The air is sweeter, and no one is shy.

The possibilities of adventure are endless.

The hunt for a restaurant late runs dry,

But no matter, as the spark is relentless.

People become split; the cautious are reckless,

the uptight are loose and the shy are outgoing.

The night is meant for rest yet many are restless.

But the burning fire of the night is slowing,

as the Sun peeks over and ruins the neon lights,

the fresh memories now old but ripe for more nights.