Tuesday, February 6, 2018

Quiet City

Here’s the world as I like it,
Sudden gusts of rain
Driving a scrap of paper
Down an empty midnight street,

Fat drops rattling window panes,
The solitary street lamp
Throwing an orange halo
Cut by crisscrossing shadows,

Small lawns and low brick houses
Concealing sleeping humans
Who labored to arrange them,

A freight train moaning distance.
There are no cars on this street,
And I’m alive but silent.

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