home.

it is 3am
and i am walking the streets of this city
again
in the cold
alone
with my hands in my pockets
and my face in a scarf

a bum walks up to me
and asks for change

i say
"it's everywhere,
make your own,"
but i give him
a dime
and he thanks me

the moon is bright
and the night is dead
but the day and i,
we are young
and alive

windows are dark
but behind some
there is life:

couples make love,
children tell stories at a slumber party,
a man writes poetry at his desk
smokes a cigarette
drinks coffee,
and a mother
just can't sleep

there is a breeze
and it blows
and empty beer can
to my feet

i kick it,
saying
"i don't want to play right now,
i'm
sorry"
so it rolls
away
and doesn't
come back

it is 3am

i should probably go home -

but where?