Grey clouds crying over the city
It is getting dark
As night approaches
lights appear through the fog –
their refections on the black road
are shattered by the steady rainfall
Somewhere in the darkening streets
a horn blows
Soon the city is alive with sound
People are rushing about
trying to get home
before the storm
In an alley an old man
is huddled in a dark, musty corner –
his only defense against the night
an old, stained raincoat
which he gathers tightly
around himself
as the winds blow
Pigeons find shelter
from the rain
nestled together under the eaves
of shops that line
the streets of this beautiful town
Night has come
The city soon slips
into an eerie quietness
Only to begin again
tomorrow.
