The carers of clock tower.
Dark this morning.
Mornings lights switching on as work motions, the end of night.
Going into the city,
Spying twitching curtains, of forward moving city lights.
Smoke hangs grey in the cold air above the refinery.
An early photographer catches the lights in his lens.
Sadly, a dead fox curled up on the carriageway greeting eternal sleep.
Foxy for one escaped daily drudgery.
Greeted by overnight headlights.
He bade the world a perfect goodnight.
And so my daylight came.
From the night bus, I stepped into day.
From the kerbside my day was done, someone cleared the fox away, his  vulpine body was gone.
(c) Livvi