Sunday morning. Empty streets, pizza crusts and empty bottles.
Echoes of the night.
Insatiable, the white dog sniffs and strains.
Divining secrets hidden in darkness,
Revealed by the light of day.

A ghost wafts beside me
Swirls and writhes like music enveloping a crowd
Gathered in the harbor where a legend lets loose a current
Crackling the air, the bell of freedom rocking harder
Darkness emerges from the jungle, a nation soon will gather
A half a million strong. Million year old carbon seeking shelter from the storm.
Long time coming. Long time gone.