early sunday morning. the loop.

the skyscrapers
don't talk
at 4 in the morning.

you can hear
the snow
and ice
crackle
and crunch
and echo off
the the steel and mortor
of the buildings.

the elevated tracks
just sit there,
like ancient monuments
that people have forgotten,
at least for the next few hours.

and it's snowing,
the streetlights
expose each
and every single snowflake
like a thief.

i walk underground
to meet the blueline.