Limnal Commuting

I leave as night shades: sky no longer black
but cobalt fading palest eastern blue
above the mountain, stars just scattered pricks,
the houses silhouetted without hues
in pines and palms. I walk grey empty streets
but not alone: the desert city has
its other citizens--coyotes cruise
back to the sticks, rabbits develop their flats,
doves squitter off irate with jobs to do.
I see breath cloud if porch lights catch it right.
Beyond the sandy wash, I lose the dark
behind the shopping strip with sodium lights
and squamous dumpsters. The corner turns my path:
Across the avenue, my office waits for work.

—February 2006

---L.