What stills the cities breath?

It’s voices once strained now carry over

Past the empty streets, reaching

Everywhere over the cold un-moving air

Insects trill and footsteps trailing

Scratching, scratching away at the surface

Beneath the quiet un-moving

chills and distant calls

far and fighting, against nothing at all

What’s beneath the fidgeting leaves

And the streetlights, for no one at all

Now what could be reaching, pulsing

Emerging in the city’s pregnant pause?