My town sits quiet.
The sun has bled out.
Blinds are tight. Dog chase
cats in their dreams. Stop lights
blink red. A billion stars hold
silent over our spinning planet.
Winds have muscled to another
place. Cool air yawns onto
lawns and weeds. Dew weeps
without crying. The history of
yesterday lays flat at the newsstand.
The voices, shadows, cars, songs,
machines and whistles find
restrain, while the clocks control