Street lights sign in as dusk resigns
to darkness.
Scattered shadows of leaves dance on
midnight sidewalks.
Homes sleep in silence. Dark breezes
lift curtain edges, creating life
from worn cloth.
Porch lights dot the galaxy of streets.
Picket fences keep strangers away
but ghosts pass through freely.
A train whistle, distant yet sharp, bleeds
into cool air. The town dreams deeply
as clocks look on.
Roger Singer 