The yellow pools of light from the street lamps
are more beautiful than the moon,
the trickle of water in the gutter,
more beautiful than the ocean.
Cigarette butts blanket the sidewalk like moss
and the sound of police sirens call to the night like wolves.
Neon signs flash above me like stars,
forming constellations of consumerism.
Skyscrapers loom above me like trees in a forest,
protecting me with their shadows.
I roam the sidewalk, a lone hiker,
observing the animals of the streets,
envying their freedom.
At the end of the night, I hike home to my warm bedroom,
reluctant to return to civilization.
Feb 3, 2015
Feb 3, 2015 at 4:49 PM UTC
The yellow pools of light from the street lamps
are more beautiful than the moon,
the trickle of water in the gutter,
more beautiful than the ocean.
Cigarette butts blanket the sidewalk like moss
and the sound of police sirens call to the night like wolves.
Neon signs flash above me like stars,
forming constellations of consumerism.
Skyscrapers loom above me like trees in a forest,
protecting me with their shadows.
I roam the sidewalk, a lone hiker,
observing the animals of the streets,
envying their freedom.
At the end of the night, I hike home to my warm bedroom,
reluctant to return to civilization.
