Stir
the streets
like a mirror topped
frozen river
reflecting light
of the winter sunrise
night withdraws
reluctantly
dabbing windows
and roof tops
with its frost
paint brush
as it goes
in the zero hours
the streets
are vacant save
for the sole
delivery man
lights begin to go
on in apartments
after alarms
the hive stirs
and awakens
an hour later
reflection is lost
to the buzz
of busyness
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