Half close your eyes, and red and white
Become the colours of the night.
Distractedly observe the glow
Of laundrettes, chippies, chemists go

Flashing by the rain-streaked glass
And disappear into the past.
Green, amber, red, you nod your head
And twenty others sway in time.
A sordid stage, the characters
All acting out a complex mime
Of barriers that self contain
Each separate universe of pain.

Now focus in, and analyse
The backs of heads (can't see their eyes),
And wonder if they'll ever see
The night-lit, street-time poetry.