While the world sleeps,
A shadow slips down a dark road.
Distant noises of tires on pavement,
Echoing through the hills,
The shadow, a boy,
Takes long strides,
Down the desolate drive.
His layered clothing,
Keep him safe from cold.
Yet, the only warmth,
Comes from his legs,
Blood pumping slowly,
The only notion of his existence.
Tobacco taste in his mouth,
More than he wants,
More than he needs.
A trail of ash,
Leading in circles,
Going nowhere.
Glancing upwards,
Speckled white on a purple back-drop.
Stars, given shape,
And given meaning.
The strangeness of night.
When the rest of the world,
Knows nothing.