3 A.M. on Avenue A
Tap, click, snap of my boots on the sidewalk
Did it rain or is that dew reflecting lights
pools of neon on the street
mist and spray hangs low along the gutter
lazy steam puffs from manholes and grates
The moon dances in and out of purple clouds
Such a clever dancer, with her purple fans
on the stage of inky velvet and black-lit sky
Night makes a gown of blackness out of rags
Bag ladies become glamorous in shadows and darkness
Queens of the night, digging in the trash
The alleys are caves, hiding the lumps of rock
and shapeless ogres that in day are the homeless
All is motionless, except for peering eyes
4/22/1996
