Mongrels

After downpour the empty street

Echos empty in the darkened evening,

Lights on the barks of trees, leaves,

Tarmac glistens orange under fast wheels.

 

Behind her glistening window

Alone in her light-less chamber she weeps

For departed has the spring sun

Where is it, the captives companion?

 

The night might seem a little sad

If the rain had not ceased.

Look to the glimmering streets

Bounds of the feral mongrels.

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