city

a shadow snakes down

a brick building.

its twisted frame winds the

barred windows around its every step,

only to turn away and run to the edge.

stopped, panting, staring at the street below,

wishing for a way to reach it. but

clichéd visions of true escape bolt the

ghost to the wall.

lanky trees yawn and

the breeze snags on their sharp fingers

they waver on skeletal heels and

hold onto to the stars for balance.

they stretch their arms into the sky

and button night coats around their bony bodies,

but clouds bite their hands and

their coats shred and

they shiver in the wind.

faint lines divide the street and

the darkness slices down the middle,

leaving ragged edges and crooked contours.

the city opens its thousand eyes and

gapes its thousand mouths and remembers

when the sidewalks danced and the

buildings laughed and the

music of the trees set the tempo for

surging life.

the city closes its thousand eyes and

closes its thousand mouths and

readies for another

fitful sleep.