I am here,
Under the tawny sheen of street lamps –
Smoke rising gracefully,
Cutting through the swirling
Pieces of this morning’s headlines –
I will wait under this fading light,
past midnight, past 2 a.m.
And past it all.
As night flees and softly turns to day –
The rosy glow of pink gradually
Giving way to a soft yellow –
I will wait for the world and her;
I will wait, where I am.