Nighthawks

Night never fully falls here.
The shadows stretch and arch
their backs and curl up
in the spaces between buildings,
but even in the small hours, here
and there a glowing square 
bears witness that I am
never awake alone.
Now distant, now near,
I hear the errant hum of other
wanderers driving down
these empty streets, awash
in artificial day; and, in my heart,
to each I reach out, whispering:
Not alone.
You’re not alone.

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Image: “Nighthawks” by Edward Hopper