The Lurkers Hour

By: Rob Sutherland, Filked from ‘The Children’s Hour’ by Longfellow

Between Eleven and Midnight

When my eyelids start to lower

Comes a pause and a lag in the postings

That I call the lurkers hour.

 

I know in the net around me

They wait in silence to greet

The new days crop of postings

All of the bitter, all of the sweet.

 

In my dream I see in the screen light

Their hands on the keyboards there

Grave faces or laughing with pleasure

Or choked with a grief hard to bear.

 

No whisper breaks the silence

Yet I know that my dreaming eyes

See the truth of us all together

And I’m taken by surprise.

 

By the love that flies away

To the silent lurkers all

Who keep their thoughts well guarded

And will never write on my wall.

 

And I give to you to inherit

My postings ugly or fair

And a blessing for lonely lurkers

Wherever you are out there.

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