Before the Sun

Early morning, took my walk Before the rising sun. On the rain-slicked city streets, I was the only one. Not another soul in sight, The sidewalks all for me, Which felt like post-Apocalypse And I a refugee. It isn’t very often That Manhattan seems so stark, Accentuated by the rain, The wind, the hour, the dark. At least, on several corners, Glowed an all-night deli’s light, Assuring me, despite the void, That things would be all right.