Sometime After Midnight

Sometime after midnight,
The streets are dark and deserted,
Muted by the vagrant silence in the wind.

The clouds pout softly.
A steady stream of slightly chilled rain water
Washes over the slightly fogged windows.

Inside, a glowing television set
Whispers its story to sleeping ears
That wouldn't have been listening if awake.

An empty gas station across the street
Hums, dimly lit, and cars pass around it
With nowhere to go.

poem by Tim Stensloff
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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