After Midnight
The dark streets are deserted,
With only a drugstore glowing
Softly, like a sleeping body;
With one white, naked bulb
In the back, that shines
On suicides and abortions.
Who lives in these dark houses?
I am suddenly aware
I might live here myself.
The garage man returns
And puts the change in my hand,
Counting the singles carefully.
Posts
No comments:
Post a Comment