By night the city
is a stranger,
so quiet
the windchimes dare not speak
for fear of waking the creatures.
I am one of them,
walking slowly,
slipping out from the shadows
and sliding through the light.
I stop, then,
and wait.
Machines rumble around me.
They turn,
churning closer
and closer
and closer
until I can feel
the tingle of excitement
growing somewhere beneath my feet
and moving across the steel.
I sat and watched the silence,
I sat and heard the dark,
but nowhere in their
melodies
did I find you,
not even after letting
precious time slip through
my cold fingers,
so, burning with anger
I ran back to the light and the noise
and fell asleep
holding onto the soft comforts
of another creature,
cradled in the arms of the growing day
a mile high and then some... 