long past the hour
when sensible souls sleep
i prowl unfamiliar streets
hoping to find some welcome
which waits up ahead
for me. my breath fogs
the night and with each
passing step i’m swimming
back through time tripping
down old familiar lanes
remembering the ways
we used to be when days
would split the night
and those slowly steeped
hours were always there
for our taking. a cool
drizzle wakes me
from this reverie
and i make the slow
turn back from where
i once burned with
misdirected desire
but passion nonetheless
to these grayer days
where i stand now
on the corner patiently
waiting to hail
the next cab.
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