The Drive Home

Taxi cabs at red lights, stop;
doors swing open and heads,
expelling the glories of the party,
pop out.

Hair falls, a silken robe.
Heads bob both to and fro,
swaying with stalwart prowess.

Witnessing the scene, street lamps
cast luminant gazes across the way,
turn mystical Night into brazen Day.

Back in.
Admitting the defeats of the evening,
doors fully shut and tales,
littered with laughter, begin;