3 a.m.

the lonely crowd,
a quiet madhouse

i'm dressed in those rags
of too many yesterdays

but a wink from the waitress
and then a smile
and she s talking to the rain

and she bounces
across the gloom

and i fold like a flower
in a book

a game of chance
a desperate man

hold me close,
hold me tighter

take away my fear

gently hold my heart

I m going down
and i'm talking to the rain

the waitress is coming

and she sits beside me

blue sky mirrored
in her eyes
and she gives that
smile


we hold hands

2 wounded creatures
seeking shelter

from the eternal rain
of the all night-diner  
in winter