2 Am

The lights stay up to
keep me         awake
in this town that is a party.

The black night is a 
dome that cloaks
our busy turmoil with 
buried faces
in their bubbles and clouds.

Faces pass
as fast as the light. The air is
hushed in its tone,

but it feels like a new 
wave of life.

I stare out the taxi window
and watch the town 
before I have to go

to sleep.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2012

Poem

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