It is dawn,

before the busy streets are invaded by the occupants of their apartments

and after the adorning dew has coated the cold lumps of metal cluttering the edges.

I walk amongst the boundaries between the place of fairies and of men.

I traverse the lines separating now and when

The steel mountains above my head compliment the power of the concrete below,

but the penny thick weed sprouting between the teeth of the sidewalk is my friend.

The bird who beats it’s wings faster than tour science can comprehend

flits passed this place and does not stop.

And does not come back.

Even the dancers on these streets have frowns on their face

while the dancers in the field rejoice.