I
The moon has just settled among the stars
The rotting stench of chemical smog
Unforgiving ghosts passing, coming and going
The repetitious glow of authority
Putters along the frigid corner looking slowly
A forgotten child throws a weathered penny
Contaminated by others who saw it as less
Few things here are holy

II
A little further down now the stars fade
Alone a mother wakes to a child
With a future insecure and unmade
A few doors open to a morning haze
The sound of engines racing along the cracked pavement
A flock of seagulls pillage the corner
Devouring scraps they flutter off chased

III
In a gnarled oak tree they see the same I see
Can hear the haunting howl of the early morning train
Scattered along the branch of that rotting tree
It’s hard not to feel regret for all the things
That once flaunted leaves and shaded children
playing on swings and carved out promises
most of which haven’t been kept
through all this the sun has slept