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
shannon p. laws 