The street slept like a baby
curled up in a corner
with trash toys scattered around it.

As the night slipped its way
out of darkness
people started walking on it like cockroaches.

‘Walking’ that would be the wrong word.

First they crawled slowly out of their caves,
and then kneeled down.
Some turned still
others graduated from kneels to stands
and finally into walks.

Slowly the pace increased
but the street continued to sleep
Occasionally it would snore,
just enough for the street lights to blink.

I walked alone for miles
on its beautiful innocent body
just so I could reach its feet or forehead
and kiss

Aha! how much I wish the street woke up
and embraced me like a baby once more.

Categories: Poetry

Tags: Poetry, Sleeping Streets, Streets