As rain cools on the night,

the sky looks like a sorbet,

& pavement feels like mud.

 

To walk down those streets,

in that early hour of that day,

when the mind slows & dims,

headlights sneak up behind

 

While the normals rest, & the

wilds wander, those few that

sleep on wet iron and wood,

as if on display like manikins,

fade into nothing in distance.