street light 7: 00 am, cold breath clouds, souls escaping
Orange reflections in puddles of tranquility and gutter sleep
there are no stars
Blue windows, empty eyes in red brick faces
staring at each other across no-mans land from behind barbed-wire picket fences
sleeping birds dont sing
Pale faced visions of footpath ghosts
main street fruit stalls and flower shops
nature with a price tag
Rosa Mayfair
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/7-00-am/
