Poem: Last Hour of Night

green light


Night traffic flows in irregular patterns
Swoosh by in shades of shadow and street light
Some tires find the manhole cover
Bounce off it adding tenor to the jazz

Drops of 4 a.m. dew touch down
On grass tips torching each blade
The lawn is now a million moons
Silently lit with the white of diamonds

Slugs ride the water highway
Fast path to someone’s petunia’s
As a raccoon wiggles low, out of the brush
Carpet-cleaning body wets her underbelly

Too late for conversation
Too early for work
The world paints a peaceful moment
So real, you can stand in it



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