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?