3:00am
The doors to the streets are closed.
the sound of grinding has faded away
A metal worker in his shop
has stopped the clanging cymbal
of hammer beating down on tin.
both are asleep,
set aside for early light.
3:00AM
all tap, tap, tapping
gone silent.
A slight breeze
kicks up dust
from against a curb.
A rat races off to hide
And night time does it's death impersonation.
Copyright © Allen Beilschmidt Sr. | Year Posted 2019
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