City Morn

In utter exhaustion, the streetlamps bow their heads As rats and bats below head to their beds. The grill in the street exhales a plume, a sigh; As the streetlights flicker and die, One by one, in a row, with limp heads, Soon to show - A reflection of sun, an orange crown, As the city sheds its old night gown Of smog and of mist swept deftly away, By a morning breeze, and parked trees sway To the rhythm of life, the resuming of flow, The horn-hooted strife soon to grow From the rumble of streets, like carpeted rooms As brighter light dispels the remnants of glooms